We Fall Between
by Creative Dummy
Summary: The worst thing a girl can do is become too comfortable in this world. Everything changes. Nothing ever stays the same. With friendship, the girls find it's just as much a struggle when together as it is when apart. :Sequel to LLD: AU
1. Prologue

**Title: **We Fall Between

**Authors:** Love's Crash Test Dummy (Jess) & Creatively Licensed B (B)

**Ships:** THE FOUR, Kaylie/Nicky, Kaylie/Damon, Nicky/Kelly, Emily/Damon, Emily/OC, Razor/Jody, Payson/Sasha, Payson/Austin, Mark/Kim, Lauren/AJ, Lauren/Razor, Lauren/Ike, Lauren/Max, Max/Maeve, Max/OC, Faith/EVERYONE, Henley/History Channel, Ava/Rain Cloud of Emo, Carter/Failure, OC/OC & more…

**Rating:** TEEN; Language, some adult content, nothing too graphic

**Disclaimer:**We don't own nor claim to own either Make It or Break It (ABC Family) or the novel that inspired _Love, Life and Denim_ (Ann Brashares) or the movie adaptation (Warner Bros. Pictures).

**Authors' note:** This is our world and strictly alternate universe. It doesn't follow the show and will be explained as we go along. You should probably read its predecessor _Love, Life and Denim_ before diving into this guaranteed monster of a story. Unlike #LLD, #WeFaB is more us, more reckless and more insane. _Hold on to your hearts, lovers, someone's must break._

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><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between **

…

Between the idea  
>And the reality<br>Between the motion  
>And the act<br>Falls the Shadow

- T.S. Eliot

…

Once upon a time in a far away land known as Boulder, Colorado, there lived four girls who shared a single pair of pants. The girls were all very different from shape and size to taste in boys and clothes, and yet a single pair of old jeans fit each of them perfectly…

Ugh. What a lame opening. Who do I look like? Kaylie? Don't even try to answer that.

Seriously, I probably would have been better off quoting _Gossip Girl_ in my hotter-than-Kristen-Bell narrator voice. Hello, Thrift Shop Lovers, Lauren Tanner here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Boulder's teenage elite. If you're one, all that matters is money, beauty and hook-ups from body action to who, what, when and where of how to get high. Some "teenage elite." Everyone is empty.

Not that you can really blame anyone. It is Boulder. Physically, it's beautiful (who hasn't seen the Flatirons?) but it's also super cliquish. If you're insanely liberal, a hippie, an extreme athlete, big on the outdoors or a university type then congrats, Boulder is the place for you! If not, my advice is to run away, fast and hard in the opposite direction. We've been called the San Francisco of Colorado, just lamer. No beaches or white sand, just creeks and rivers.

Majority of the people I know seem nice and friendly, but it's all surface. Everyone will share their opinions even if you don't want it and they pride themselves on being "different" and "unique." Give me a break. They'll be nice to your face, sure, but if they haven't known you since grade school it's an automatic boot into the Rejects classification of human.

Boulder is what daddy calls an "affluent community." People here are wealthy and come from wealth. Residents are the elite of America, living in ivory towers with a mountain view. Basically, Boulder thinks it's more sophisticated than it is. It doesn't mean we don't have our 'hoods where the poor squish into crumbling buildings and wandering homeless because we do, but the high housing prices push more and more of them out to Longmont every day.

The University crowd who basically run the town. It has a reputation for being a party school, home of the Boulder Boozers, as I call them. I used to know them _really_ _well_, but not so much these days. I went from the most feared insider to the biggest outsider.

I used to _rule_ them, but apparently there's an unwritten law that says once you make a desperate play to save a childhood friendship and make a fool of yourself, your popularity takes a hit. Like, Big Bang to the dinosaurs. The giggles, the whispers, being crossed off the most exclusive guest lists, I can handle all that, but only because I have the Four.

Seriously, Em, Pay and (most times, but less and less) Kales are the only ones worth my time in CO. The lame opening wasn't without reason. No, the story of the jeans isn't just some suburban myth. We aren't little girls, playing make-believe between dress-up and tea parties. I'd know. I'm one of a four-hottie sisterhood with a silly pair of magic pants at the core.

Just to recap, I've been beyond BFF-status with Emily Kmetko, Payson Keeler and Kaylie Cruz since we were curled up in our mommies' bellies, the April group at prenatal yoga. You can call it destiny or fate if you believe in that. Most times I just chalk it up to the size of Boulder and how little options there are. Anyways, like women tend to do, our moms bonded and became best friends, each giving birth to a baby girl. Freaky odds, I know.

Our moms used to be friends, gabbing in the observation room while Em, Pay, Kales and I tumbled around on the mats in the beginning stages of our gymnastics careers, but as always, life is a bitch. Everyone tiptoes around the _why_ of it all, but I'm not stupid. I know my mom broke them apart. Leslie Tanner with her big ideas, husband's money and taste for crack. Sometimes heroin. I had no idea when I was seven, but I'm sure Chloe, Kim and Ronnie did.

Having met Leslie, I don't blame the other moms for breaking ties and letting their friendship fade away. After all, Leslie _left_—on a stretcher because she was so strung-out—and made the decisions that landed her there. She didn't make the effort and instead of holding on and making things more painful, they let go.

To this day, I'm embarrassed. A little place like Boulder, word travels fast. Hell no was I going to spend the rest of my existence in this stupid town known as "the Rich Girl with the Runaway Coke Whore Mommy" or the "Crack Baby" so I did what I had to. I rose above it and that reputation died in the shadow of my new one: the Boulder Bitch. My actions put me at odds with my friends at times—with Kaylie _all the time_—but I refused to be that girl.

Last summer we were separated for a whole two months, a first in our sixteen years of knowing each other. It was also the summer we found the jeans and discovered their magic. Yours truly snatched them off a rack in a disgusting thrift shop downtown (Recycled fashion? I'm still not a believer) and got Kaylie to try them on, hoping it'd distract her from her whining over a boy—Carter, obvis. Then Payson tried them on and then Emily.

By the time the same pair of jeans made Kaylie's chicken legs look amazing and fit Emily, the skyscraper she is, we all knew something impossible and exciting was going down. If the same pants fit us—and I mean _really_ fit, no camel toe, no cuffing—then things were just meant to be. By the time that denim was hugging my ass, making it look impossibly bootylish, I pulled out the AmEx and we were walking out with them.

Personally, I've never been convinced magic exists even if the jeans are pretty damn convincing. Kaylie has always been a fan, believing in things that are greater than the world of what can be seen and touched and explained. Payson is our resident skeptic and Emily wants to believe even if everything in her life tells her not to get her hopes up.

Magic or no magic, that summer had been something else.

Payson went to a gymnastics camp in Texas, just another step on her gold-encrusted ladder to the Olympics. It's totally beyond me how she came back at the end of the summer _dating_ (well, pretty much dating) Austin Tucker a.k.a Mr. Sexy Gold Medalist and with friends like Faith Giancana a.k.a Queen Weirdo and Kelly Parker a.k.a the Denver Death Eater. Livestream smivestream. Doesn't make her any less of soul-sucking bitch.

I'm not supposed to hate or judge because they're _Payson's friends_ and I need to accept that and blah, blah, blah, but seriously, no clue what Payson sees in them. Okay, so I follow Kelly Parker on Twitter, not because I care about her life or anything, but just so I know places to avoid when she's there. Not to mention her drunk tweeting sprees (which are starting to pop up on my timeline more and more lately) = hilarious.

Faith Giancana has been MIA and I can't say I care. I never really understood why everyone was so infatuated with her. Sure, from what I remember, she was cute, but _so weird_. Undiagnosed mental condition weird. So maybe I felt a little threatened. The last thing I need is someone fucking with my best friend's head just because I maybe fucked with her best friend's life. I had my suspicions, but Faith seemed disgustingly genuine. She disappeared anyways so whatever.

I can't say I mind sharing Pay with her older man. Payson Keeler getting hot male attention? I am proud, but a little worried about this strange setup they have. Apparently they aren't dating (it isn't allowed), but they're definitely together, but they don't do more than kiss. I don't think she even lets him get to second base. Every time I see the way they are together I tell her, "Pay, three words: Lock. It. Down. LID," and Payson will tell me to knock it off.

The only reason I even really say anything is because I don't want to see him hurt her. Hello! He's _Austin Tucker_. Did I mention he's hot and older? Oh, yeah, and _experienced_. Payson is young and naïve and inexperienced. She gives him the power to hurt her, which is, like, the number one no-no when it comes to boys! Austin Tucker doesn't seem like he has the kind of iron resolve against temptation a la Nicky Russo.

Nicky Russo, Barcelona Boy, Kaylie's boyfriend. In the war against Kelly Parker and the childhood besties cliché, Kaylie won out and claimed her prize—a pale, awkward nerd boy. Nicky's good-looking, fairly muscular with a nice smile, but personally I think it's outweighed by the bad hair, the scientific dork babble, the old man hobbies and dull personality.

Another thing, he goes along with whatever Kaylie says, which is nice if Mindless Accessory Boy is your type. Kaylie practically carries his balls in her handbag, which is funny considering they've been dating forever and still haven't done the dirty. Sexual frustration thy name is Kaylie Cruz. I admit I was amused at first, but it's tipping more towards annoyed. Why won't he do her so she'll stop whining? Seriously, Kay needs to take her little bitch to the vet because there _has_ to be something wrong with a boy who isn't down to screw his girlfriend.

If you ask me, Kaylie's failure to fuck is probably thanks to the shitty advice from her new bestie. Maeve Benson, newly crowned leader of the popular kids, the self-proclaimed "Royals" who once partied at my house and drank my booze and worshiped me. Kaylie sits with them at lunch while Em and I don't. Kaylie invites us, but I'm not sorry Emily has better things to do and I'm allergic to bullshit and spray on superficiality.

But I get carried away sometimes. Whatever. Like I was saying, Kaylie has her boyfriend locked down despite their intimacy issues. No clue where Payson's going. The last thing I want to see is her turn out like Emily after what that douche musician did to her.

Damon Young tops my shit list and it's a long fucking list of D-bags and hoes. He had Emily so convinced that he was down-to-earth and wouldn't get swept up in the fame. When his single skyrocketed he built a bad rep, caught out in the streets by TMZ and other celeb gossipers, partying with other musicians and actors. Then one day he just disappeared.

There was no word anywhere. Rumors said his label pulled him out of the spotlight, sent him away from civilization to focus on his music. Others say he did it on his own, that he wanted to vanish and did just that. Emily had to find out about all of this via E! and trending Twitter topics. Next thing I know, Emily is sobbing about their relationship being over and the little shit deserves to be #2 on my shit list (#1 being Carter Anderson, duh).

So now, after how close we've gotten during the summer, I've made it my personal mission to keep Emily distracted. I signed her up for a bunch of extracurriculars and she's working at the Pizza Shack and doing this tutoring gig. Ha! Emily is trying to keep Ike from flunking out. Honestly, Emily trying to get Ike to do math and decipher poetry is hilarious! I'd much rather watch that during lunch, not listening to Maeve Benson talk about that one commercial and print ad she was in. Please. It was cheap and cheesy and for her aunt's boutique.

Super stardom is in Maeve Benson's future for sure. #sarcasm

Anyways, with my nonexistent popularity, openly socializing with Ike Benzinger can't hurt. He's funny in that loser kind of way. For a pint-size twig he has guts. I tell him we're going to fuck with A's car at 3 a.m. and Ike will show up all dressed in camo and face paint. Not that _I_ was the one responsible for that giant penis drawn on the side of Alison's car and the lube on all the windows. I'm just saying Ike would if I snapped.

I'm aware how pathetic it is that the strongest male presence in my life (other than daddy) is Ike who looks and acts like he's yet to hit puberty, but I don't really care. I see the same silly boys day after day and no one really excites me. At least Ike is real. With AJ living in Palm Springs to be close to his kid (and the Baby Mama—double ugh) and Razor in Cali, my love life has been flatter than Maeve Benson's ass.

Speaking of Razor, we text daily and iChat every couple weeks. He talks about other girls, specifically that Jody chick and it pisses me off, but it's better than not talking to him at all. If I don't start off my morning with a text from Ray I'm in a shitty mood for the rest of the day. I can't explain it, but it isn't like I can explain anything when it comes to him.

Whatever. I don't need a man to be happy. For the longest time I wholeheartedly believed I _need_ attention and a boy to lock down in a relationship, but I'm over it. I have my girls and Ike and even Razor from a distance. I even have daddy, who's been making it a point to be home a hell of a lot more. He still goes on business trips, meetings and consultations, but we actually, like, eat dinner together and talk. It's strange, but the good kind of strange.

Life always has ups and downs and my friends and I are proof of that. Like hell I'll ever tell anyone this (maybe Razor) but I feel the pull. Different things and different people in our individual lives pull at us, demanding, stealing our attention away from the Four and it being the middle of the school year, we can't just rub the jeans and wish to be best friends forever. They're summer pants and their magic doesn't work that way anyways.

The pull, it scares me sometimes and so maybe I end up snapping and being unnecessarily bitchy, but I can't help that. It's how I'm built. I know the girls more than understand, but I also know that they're getting tired of it.

My question: how do I stop being the person I am? _Why_ should I stop being who I am?

It's frustrating. Over the summer, we were apart, the four of us scattered all around the world, but we had the jeans to bond over, to keep us connected. Now that we're all in Boulder, all together, more and more it seem just as difficult to keep this friendship afloat, but this time around we don't have the jeans to help catch us when we fall.

And we will fall. That much is guaranteed. Call me a cynic, but that's the life I know. It's a total, unforgiving bitch. Lo imitates life it seems. Gossip Girl would say something about happy endings just being a new beginning, a new opportunity to watch everything you have evaporate, to take one wrong step in the wrong heels and lose it all. Take it from an experienced faller. The higher you climb, the longer the fall.

What will happen next? Like hell if I know.

xoxo

Lo

...

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><p><strong>Authors' Note: <strong>There you have it! It's another start to another adventure. Ready? _Review._

Oh, and a huge HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the lovely **Romance Novel**! Faith would say male strippers are a necessity, but you might just have to settle for this shout out. ;)

**Review.**

#WeFaB #LLDforever


	2. Oh My, Look At Those Eyes

**Warning: **Hold on to your hearts, lovers. Someone's must break.

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><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between **

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There are eyes all over Boulder. Eyes everywhere. Staring. Searching. Searing.

A brick wall stained with black spray paint. Swooping black arches, black pupils and black irises surrounded by white. Its piercing stare sparks suspicion over shadows and provokes that walking-on-tiptoes and glancing-over-shoulders type of anxiety. It's unreal how paint on a wall can bring out such an uncomfortable reaction and with intent.

One day these graffiti eyes began appearing all around downtown Boulder, starting out in Sharpie over old fliers on streetlamps, but now they're everywhere. On walls and shop windows, street signs, cars, public benches and bus stops. The artistic counterculture crowd accepts it and even admires it. Their entire city acts as a giant art gallery. Meanwhile, the older generation and high society crowd aren't happy, calling it an act of mass vandalism.

Personally, Lauren Tanner finds it fucking creepy.

Even creepier is the homeless guy nearby, gloved hands gripping the plastic handle of a metal shopping cart filled with trash. Snow-white scruff runs along his cocoa-colored cheeks, the only part of him exposed. He wears at least three different thick, dirty coats, much needed with the February freeze that's typical in Colorado.

A loose wheel on the shopping cart squeals as the man draws closer, giving Lauren a better view of his disheveled appearance. What's even most striking is his eyes, black, just as prying as the set of eyes painted on the wall directly behind him. Lauren drowns in the overpowering feeling of being watched.

Before the man has the chance to get any closer, the little bell on the shop door jingles and Payson Keeler shoulders past it with a bag of ice in each hand. Her blonde hair, pulled up in a tight ponytail, swings from side to side as Payson thanks the shop owner. Lauren eyes the homeless man long enough to see him change his course. Lauren composes herself and turns her body, sending her loose, gold curls swinging over one shoulder.

"Payson, it's about time! I'm about to freeze to death!"

Eyes set, annoyed, Payson ready to respond when the bell jingles again and two strapping young men walk out. Austin Tucker, wearing a fitted leather jacket, has eyes for Payson and no one else. Following him is Conrad Cooper, an inch taller and several shades paler, only wearing a thin flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a case of beer under his arm and a happy-go-lucky grin.

"I don't know how y'all do it in Beantown, Tuck, but I was taught a gentleman opens doors and carries things for a girl, especially his special lady friend," Conrad says, speaking in a smooth, rhythmic way.

"What? She said she got it!" Austin motions to Payson. "I'm not sorry I support my special lady friend's independence and right to choose."

"Plus," Payson adds, "Austin? Gentleman? I won't hold my breath."

Austin's eyes widen significantly at Payson's teasing though his amusements shows in the lines that form around his smile. He springs up beside her and tries to steal the bags, but Payson assures him she's fine. Despite Lauren's bitter feelings towards the opposite sex, seeing Payson and Austin together never ceases to make her lust for her own special friend.

Lauren clears her throat to make her presence known and when Payson notices, her earlier annoyance returns. "Oh, hey, Lo. It was really considerate of you to volunteer us to go to the store then leave me to get the ice all on my own. You've been really helpful so far."

"Hey!" Lauren holds up a set of shiny car keys. "I drove, remember? I'd say that's the definition of helpful."

Lauren smiles at her cute Nissan 350z convertible with custom leather seats and a vinyl top, accented with shiny rims and a vanity plate that reads: BYEBTCH. It's a showy little car and Lauren wouldn't want it any other way. The two boys stand with her on the curb and give the car their undivided attention.

Payson clearly disapproves of everything she sees. "I will never understand people who just stand there and smile at their cars, which is exactly what you're all doing right now."

"Well, you're dating one," Lauren points at Austin, "and you're BFFs with another," she points to herself, "so, Pay, you need to accept us even with our automobile enthusiasm."

"Couldn't've said it better myself," Austin agrees.

"Lauren Tanner and Austin Tucker have something in common," Payson says flatly. "Scary."

"So, Payson…" Lauren hops off the curb and turns to the other blonde. "Did you invite your boy and his friend to the shindig at your place? The party could use more testosterone. Lord knows Nicky Russo barely counts." Lauren bats her eyes at Austin's friend and his beer.

"And have to answer to my dad's interrogation? No, thanks," Payson replies. "Lo, you need to pop the trunk. My hands are about to fall off."

All it takes is a few giant steps for Austin to be at the back of the convertible, pulling on the latch of the trunk and swinging it open for Payson. Once she sets down the ice, Payson rubs the red imprints on her wrists and gives Austin a "thanks."

"Anytime." Austin smiles, so proud of himself. "Sorry, but it sounds like I need to do some mental preparation and meditation before meeting your 'rents. I'll be the first to admit I don't have the best track record with dads…"

"What other girls' dads have you met?" Conrad asks.

"None," Austin answers, "but I have met yours and he did try to shoot me."

Conrad nods and points a thumb over at Austin. "True story."

Payson smiles seeing Austin and Conrad playing off one another, the Gymnastics Bad Boy and the New Kid at the Rock. A few months after Austin moves to Boulder, Conrad came over from Denver Elite. He's genetically engineered to be a winner—having Olympic gold medalists for parents—and had been one of Marty's personal pet projects. The reason for his transfer isn't public knowledge, but Conrad is so much apart of the Rock family that no one questions it.

"Fine," Lauren relents, though she isn't shy about her disappointment, "but the next party_ I_ host you two _have_ to come."

"We would be honored." Conrad tugs on that Southern charm of his without even realizing. "For now it looks like Tuck and I got ourselves a date with this twelve pack, _the Godfather _and surround sound speakers."

"Exciting," Lauren says sarcastically.

Not being the ambassadors of PDA like some couples, instead of attacking her, Austin gently takes Payson's hand, his fingers fitting with hers for a moment, a smile shared between them. He brings the back of her hand to his lips and gives it a chaste kiss. An action so small yet so sincere makes Payson's cheeks burn bright.

"Bye, Keeler."

"Go," Payson says, squeezing his hand before letting go. "I don't want either of you drinking and driving or drinking and doing anything stupid. Need I remind you about the New Years Eve incident when you two drunk dialed Sasha?"

Because Austin Tucker _has_ to do everything in a dramatic fashion, when he winces, he rubs his ears at the memory. Everyone who was at the Rock that day remembers Sasha calling Austin and Conrad into his office for "a word" where he verbally ripped them to shreds. The walls aren't soundproof so the screaming traveled and went on for at least an hour.

"You have nothing to worry about, Payson. I'll keep an eye on him." Conrad clamps his hand on Austin's shoulder. "You ladies go enjoy your shindig."

Austin pulls the passenger door open for Payson while Lauren flirts a couple cans of beer out of Conrad's case and into her purse. Once the girls climb into Lauren's car, doors shut and engine roaring, they wave at the boys and speed off back to the Keeler's.

"So," Lauren says, her voice spiking with excitement. "Austin's friend gets cuter and cuter every time I see him. What's his name again?"

"Conrad Cooper. I've introduced you like twice now?"

"Well, when you put restrictions on guys I pay attention and steer clear…mostly," Lauren says. "Oh, Pay, you and your assumptions. I actually had Emily in mind. I've never set someone up on a blind date, but it sounds fun. Emily can really use a pick-me-up after the Damon fiasco. Conrad seems sweet and most importantly he's old enough to buy beer."

"Nope. He just has a pretty convincing fake ID, which I think is dumb and irresponsible, but then again, he is the men's World Champion."

"Okay, all I got from that is that my goodie-goodie Payson Keeler hangs out with boys who use fake IDs," Lauren says, playfully scolding her with the click of her tongue. "Have I mentioned how proud I am? Going from vanilla to cold sweat spicy ice cream!"

Payson doesn't even comment, just fixes the seatbelt across her chest. "Just keep your eyes on the road, Lo."

The subdivision the Keelers live in is very Pleasantville while Kaylie and Lauren's neighborhood is like 90210 and Emily's makes Chino look inviting. In the Keeler's subdivision, every house is identical with minivans parked in the driveways. Everyone knows everyone and carpool to school in the morning, soccer practice in the afternoons and games on the weekends.

Lauren pulls up to the house and parks across the street, getting out to admire her parallel parking job while Payson retrieves the ice. Lauren is considerate enough to hold the front door open for Payson and even takes one of the bags. It's much warmer and noisier inside where friends and family are gathered for Mark's welcome home barbeque. With the job keeping him constantly on the road, this is the first time Payson has seen her dad since October.

Walking through the living room, Lauren's eyes immediately pinpoint Steve Tanner in his casual designer polo and khakis. He's with Chloe Kmetko, big hair piled atop her head like a tower, dolled up in cheetah print and an abundance of costume jewelry. They were in the exact same position—close and chatty—when Lauren decided she needed to get away and volunteered to drive Payson for the ice run.

Payson nudges Lauren and they walk through the sea of adults to the kitchen. The other half of the Four, Kaylie Cruz and Emily Kmetko, sit at the kitchen table with Payson's little sister, Becca, thirteen, and Emily's younger brother, Brian, fourteen. Playing cards are spread out all across the table, delicately propping and placing cards together, building a house.

"Careful, Bry," Emily warns. Her hair has grown out some since the summer, the effortlessly straight strands touching her shoulders, bangs sweeping to one side across her forehead. Lining her eyes with the top of the house of cards, Emily watches as her brother continues to build the third level.

"Emily, it isn't brain surgery." The high school sophomore (he skipped a grade) laughs at how serious his sister is.

"Kmetko kids!" Lauren shouts as she enters. "You need to tell your mom to back that thang up off my dad. I left because their 'catching up' was a little too nauseating for me. I come back and now it looks like they might actually be _flirting_."

Sitting back in her seat, Emily's face shows how deeply disturbed she is. "That's why we're hanging out here and not out there. Any more of that and I would have barfed on site."

Completing the third level of the house of cards, Brian agrees, "Ditto."

"Isn't she dating someone?" Kim Keeler, with gossip as a guilty pleasure, walks into the room and subsequently joins the conversation. "I'm always at the supermarket and that nosy Gloria Wilson, the one with the daughter who used to train at the Rock, is always asking me like I'm control the live coverage of Chloe Kmetko's love life."

Becca gives Emily a reassuring glance. "Mom basically tells her to shove it."

"That I do," Kim says. Both Emily and Brian give her smiles to show their thanks. Kim Keeler, super mom, to the rescue and not just on behalf of her own kids. Smiling sympathetically, Kim spares the kids from having to try to explain their mom's current relationship status. "It's complicated?"

"Definitely," Emily replies.

"Say no more," Kim says. "Maybe I'll head back in there and run interference."

"You're the best, Mrs. Keeler," Lauren says sweetly. She heaves the bag of ice up onto the kitchen island. "Oh, and here's the ice you asked for."

"Thank you, Lauren," Kim replies. Though she knows the trouble that Lauren can sometimes get into, Kim has always been willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. "So, your dad tells me you've been driving everywhere and anywhere since getting your license?"

"Absolutely," Lauren replies. "I am a fantastic driver, aren't I, Pay?"

"Yeah, sure." Payson is distracted, following Kaylie's line of sight out the glass sliding door to where Mark is by the grill with Nicky Russo. They're both in thick coats, trying to fend off the cold while cooking. Nicky has a spatula in hand, carefully flipping burgers while Mark standing next to him, looking rather proud. "Kay, it looks like my dad is stealing away your boyfriend."

"It's fine. I don't mind sharing, especially with Mr. Keeler." Sitting next to Emily, Kaylie straightens her pink sweater, switching her attention over to her two blonde best friends. "It took that long for two bags of ice?"

"Let me guess," Emily hums. "Shoe sale on Main or hot boys jogging on the side of the road? Lo likes to slow down and watch them. Extra slow if one or more of them is shirtless and then she starts to honk the horn and scream 'mush' over whatever Britney song is playing on loop."

"Do not!" Lauren squeaks. Glancing towards Kim, she nervously laughs. "Who knew you were such a comedian, Em?"

"Actually, we ran into Austin and Conrad at the corner store and both of them were wearing shirts." Watching Kim remove ice from the bag, Payson adds, "Mom, the boys say hi."

"Aw, why didn't you invite them, Pay?" Kim asks. "Judging by how long your dad and Nixon have been out there, those two look ready to feed a hundred men. Lord knows Austin and Conrad eat enough for an entire army." Busily moving around the kitchen, finding a bowl to put the ice in, Kim goes on, "And what about Kelly? Did you invite her like I told you to?"

Kim thinks she's just having a conversation while Becca and Brian bicker over building the fourth level of their house of cards. The four girls, however, aren't lucky enough to be so oblivious. All eyes skirt to Kaylie. If she didn't tense up when Kim called Nicky "Nixon" then she surely does at the mention of Kelly Parker.

"I did," Payson lies. Her voice jumps as she says it and that alone screams deception. "Mom, you know how busy Kelly gets. She already had plans and she was willing to cancel for a Scrabble rematch, but I told her we could just do a rain check."

The truth: Payson isn't stupid enough to invite Kelly when Kaylie _and_ Nicky are there. That's equivalent to slicing off an arm and jumping into a tank of hungry sharks.

"We'll do that sometime before your father goes back on the road," Kim continues. She tilts her head towards her daughter, telepathically saying she's willing to drop it for now, but they're going to talk about it once everyone goes home for the night. "Kelly's welcomed any time. I miss having her around the house. Faith too."

Payson smiles sadly, eyes drifting to the Keeler refrigerator that's decorated with photographs, reminders and a dozen of postcards from all over Europe with nonsensical, random notes from Faith Giancana scribbled on the backs.

With the bowl of ice in hand, Kim speeds out of the kitchen to rejoin her guests. Feeling the level of unease start to rise, Lauren distracts herself by sneaking up behind Brian and placing her hands on his shoulders. "Hey, good-looking! Nice house."

The purr in her voice, right over Brian's shoulder, startles him. He flinches, seconds away from placing the next card. That one wrong move brings down the entire structure. One card collapses and the next and the next. In a matter of seconds, all the cards fall flat against the table. What was once something fragile and delicate is now reduced to nothing.

"Shit," Lauren curses. "My bad. Sorry, Wheels."

"It's alright," Brian says. "What goes up must come down. Einstein."

"Another perfect nickname for you." Lauren winks. By his reaction, Brian loves the attention even if he knows Lauren is just messing with him to entertain herself.

"Okay, stop flirting with my brother. It's creepy," Emily says, tugging on Lauren's arm and moving her away from Brian. "Now is the perfect time to head upstairs for some denim business, don't you think?"

Kaylie nods. "Exactly what I was thinking."

"What business?" Becca looks between the four older girls while collecting all the playing cards, forming a neat little stack.

"None of your business," Payson sings, moving around the kitchen island and towards the back staircase. "We'll be right back. Just stay here with Brian. Play go fish or something."

"Speed, Payson," Brian corrects. "It's all about speed."

Becca snorts. "Duh, Pay. I haven't played Go Fish since I was, like, seven."

"Which was what? Just last year?" Payson shoots back. Her friends start to get out of their seats and follow her to the stairs. As an afterthought Payson shouts, "Oh, and Becca, please don't let mom and dad break out the old gymnastics tapes while we're gone!"

"No promises!" Becca laughs.

Cringing at the thought, Payson starts up the stairs. On the journey to Payson's room, Lauren takes it upon herself to fill in Kaylie and Emily about their run-in with Austin and Conrad, complete with Lauren Tanner commentary, of course. She's sure to point out how she referred to Austin as Payson's boyfriend and no one corrected her.

Once safely behind the locked door of Payson's bedroom, Lauren opens her purse and carefully pulls out the sacred jeans. The faded denim is folded neatly, the brass button secured and the zipper in place. The decorations they made at the end of last summer have survived months of hibernation, mostly iron-ons and code words that trigger memories in some way significant to one or more of them.

No one has worn the jeans since the summer. Lauren, being the one to physically buy them, the holder of the receipt, is the designated keeper of the jeans. She stores them on the top shelf at the back of her giant, walk-in closet and she brought them today for a special deliberation.

"_And_ I got a little something extra!" Lauren pulls out the two cans of beer she scored from Conrad, holding one in each hand like a prize.

Seeing it, Payson puts her foot down. "You've got to be kidding. No. Not in my house, Lauren."

"Pay…"

"Kaylie, you're up," Payson says. Lauren's shoulders drop, action prompted by defeat. She shoves the beer back into her bag. Pleased with herself, Payson tells Kaylie, "The floor is yours."

Payson stands by the door with her arms crossed while Emily takes a seat at the foot of Payson's bed. Lauren is distracted, on the other side of the room, curiously rifling through the jewelry box on Payson's dresser. Kaylie goes to stand in front of Payson and Emily and doesn't even try to get Lauren's attention, assuming the blonde thinks this is stupid, which she does.

Kaylie bounces on her heels, hands tucked behind her back. "Okay, so I know we all agreed to only wear them during the summer, but I've been thinking…"

"Oh, here we go…" Lauren joins Emily, linking their arms. "This should be good."

Irritably eyeing Lauren, Kaylie goes on, "Rule #11 of the Sisterhood, which, if some of us forgot, we added right before the jeans went into hibernation, states that one sister may put in a formal request to reawaken the jeans prior to the beginning of the summer—"

"However," Emily cuts in, "if two of the four sisters object then the jeans remain dormant."

"Okay. Let's hear it, Kay." Lauren loudly clasps her hands, wiggling her hips in an excited little dance. "Who? What? When? Where? Why?"

Kaylie hesitates, already starting to blush. "I will be wearing them, obviously. What? Valentine's Day." Already Lauren and Emily's interest begins to waver. "When? February 15. Again, that one was pretty obvious. Nicky and I are going to the Valentine's Day dance and it's going to be really romantic and most importantly…I think it's time. I think I'm ready."

Looking down at her boots, Kaylie bashfully smiles and the entire room goes quiet. No one really knows how to respond to that. Payson nods like she understands, Emily tries really hard to understand and Lauren is downright confused and not afraid to let it show.

"So you want to get laid in _our_ jean?" Lauren asks bluntly. Of everyone, it _had_ to be Lauren who voices what everyone else is thinking. "That's why we're doing this right now when I could be downstairs keeping Chloe Kmetko from sucking out Daddy's checkbook?"

Not finding that one bit funny, Emily elbows her. "Lo."

"I'm kidding, Kemmy-Ko," Lauren says sweetly.

"Guys, can we stay focused here? It's…it's _my first_," Kaylie says with a special emphasis in her voice, almost desperate for them to understand her intentions. "Your first time is supposed to mean something and mine is going to be with Nicky and you know I really like him so I want it to be extra special. These jeans are practically the definition of special and not to mention magic. I was wearing them when we met. I can't think of a better way."

"So, wait, I think I'm a little behind here," Lauren says. "You and Nicky haven't had sex yet?"

"No." Wrapping her arms across her chest, Kaylie grows self-conscious. "What did you think?"

Lauren thoughtfully ticks off her fingers. "But you've been together…six months now. And I distinctly remember talking about wanting to lose your V-card after that basketball game last month. You haven't complained since then so I just assumed…"

"Maybe you just turned on your selective hearing and zoned out because we were just talking about Kaylie and Nicky's latest date yesterday," Emily reminds her. "Remember? Over smoothies?"

"Must have slipped my mind…"

"Why is it such a surprised?" Kaylie asks. With her, every day is a constant struggle, attempt after attempt to fight off the insecurities that anchor her. Lauren's ability to make Kaylie feel judged and claustrophobic with everything she says does not help. "Sorry, Lo, I'm not the type of girl who jumps into bed on the first date."

The thinly veiled accusation pierces Lauren and something in her snaps and brings her to her feet. She was only trying to give Kaylie the truth she's always trying to pry out of people. Through a clenched jaw, Lauren growls, "Implying something, Kay?"

"Okay, we're losing focus _again_!" Payson goes to stand between Lauren and Kaylie, acting as a human barrier. "Kaylie, do you have anything else to say or can we vote?"

Taking a moment to refocus, Kaylie starts again, "I didn't want to jump into things, especially with how my last serious relationship turned out. It took months for Nicky to get Kelly Parker and Faith Giancana out of his system, but now he's over them and I'm ready. I think we both are."

By the way she goes from neutral to uncomfortable, everyone can see how Kaylie pulled on one of Payson's heartstrings and not any of the right ones. Anyone can guess the trigger.

To Kaylie, Kelly and Faith are nothing more than flies to be shooed out of her kitchen, pages to be torn out and tossed away to make room for Kaylie's perfect fairytale storybook. To Payson, Kelly and Faith are two of her closest friends.

While Payson is too kind to call Kaylie out on it, Lauren can never pass up an opportunity.

"I'm not feeling it," Lauren says, letting her distaste shine through. "The whole point of the pants is the four of us. I don't see how you using them to get over your sexual frustration benefits our friendship."

"Lo, you don't even care about the jeans," Kaylie says. Lauren raises an eyebrow, defiant. "Are you really doing this just to spite me right now?"

"Oh, did I forget I'm just a guest in a world ruled by Kaylie Cruz? My mistake," Lauren says. "Seriously, I love you, but who do you think you are assuming I don't care about the jeans, oh, and right after you implied that I'm a slut?"

Kaylie's gaze darkens. "Is there really any question about it? Your track record says it all."

"I vote no," Lauren says, sure to look Kaylie in the eyes when she spits it out. "Em? Pay?"

Feeling awful about how this entire discussion turned out, Emily glances in Payson's direction, seeking a little support. Payson seems a little irritated, which is to be expected. Thinking to save Payson from having to make the decision, Emily does it herself. "Sorry, Kay, but I have to go with Lo on this one."

Kaylie takes a step towards Emily. "Why?"

Moving to break the shared gaze between Kaylie and Emily, Lauren says, "Like you need a pair of jeans to get some. Kaylie, you're hot. Nicky is a boy. It's straight up biology from there. I know you want to pout, but rules are rules. The Sisterhood has spoken. Now let's head back downstairs. I swear if my dad is _still _flirting with Chloe Kmetko, Em, you and me are going into the Reverse Parent Trap Playbook."

Payson smiles faintly. "I think you two would make great stepsisters."

Emily laughs at the mental image, pulling her weight in the effort to move on from Kaylie's rejected proposal. "I'm all for us being related, but my mom and your dad? Can you imagine?"

"Only in my nightmares." Lauren groans, finding a similar mental image in her head and not liking it one bit. Turning to Emily, Lauren giggles. "Maybe I'll just marry your hot brother one day. Nerds grow up to be millionaires. It's just a bonus that he's adorable."

"Lauren! That isn't even remotely funny!" Emily shouts. "He's my baby brother. I've seen what you do to innocent, impressionable boys."

"Like a python eating a deer."

"Thank you, Payson, for the imagery." Lauren moans in mock agony.

When they run out of things to talk about it becomes harder and harder to ignore Kaylie and her pout. Luckily for everyone, Lauren's phone starts to light up and Ke$ha's electronically altered voice sings a few lines for them.

_You should know_

_That I love_

_You a lot_

_But I just can't date a dude with a vag_

Emily sniggers, Payson pretends she doesn't want to join in on the sniggering and Lauren grins because she loves that song and Ke$ha and fuck everyone who thinks otherwise. Lauren slides her finger to unlock the screen and check the text. Curious, Emily reads it from over her shoulder while Payson casts Kaylie a little sympathy and gently places a hand on her shoulder.

"Operation Soul Skater is in motion," Emily reads aloud. "That cannot be good." Emily doesn't look very impressed by the fact that Lauren is up to no good, especially when it's proven to do her harm in the past. With how the two of them have grown closer, Emily is practically desensitized to Lauren's less than behaved behavior. Instead of asking for details Emily just says, "Tell Ike he better have those practice questions done by Monday morning."

"Sure thing, Tutor Girl. I have to meet up with him after dinner tonight." Lauren replies to the text from her partner in crime when her face suddenly lights up. "Oh, my God! We so need to have a date night in Tree Hill! How about after I meet up with Ike, we head to my place? Daddy's been strict about 'upholding my so-called curfew,' which basically means goodbye my so-called life. If I'm hanging out at home he has no grounds to complain. It'll be fun. We haven't done a TV binge in, like, forever."

"I'm so there," Emily quickly responds. "I've been trying to stay out of the house as much as I can these days. Bruce has been over so much lately. I wouldn't be surprised if he's there right now even though we're all here. I'll run it by my mom and see what she says."

"And I'll run it by daddy," Lauren echoes. "Awesome. Any other takers?"

"Sounds like fun, but I don't know how long my dad is going to be in town this time and I kind of want to spend as much time with the family as I can," Payson explains. Everyone nods. Family time is just as sacred, if not more, than Sisterhood time.

"I can't. I have Nicky." Kaylie is obviously upset and it makes the tension rise even after they tried so hard to beat it down. "Plus, my mom doesn't want me staying out too late."

"Fine. Looks like it's just you and me, Em." Lauren nudges her. "One Scott brother each."

Before Lauren and Emily can get into which Scott brother belongs to, there's a knock on the door. Since their deliberation is basically over, Payson answers it. Nicky Russo with his coy smile and signature, mess of a hairdo, pops his head in and waves. Kaylie is instantly lifted from her mood and goes to meet him.

"Hey, you." Kaylie rounds her arms around Nicky's shoulders and drags him into a kiss. He's caught off guard, but the longer her lips rest against his the deeper Nicky melts into the kiss. It lasts long enough for Lauren to make a face at Emily who tries not to laugh and Payson sends both of them a warning with her eyes. When they finally pull away, Kaylie hugs him.

"Jeez, Princess." Nicky chuckles. "You'd think I've been gone for years or something."

"No kidding," Lauren murmurs beneath her breath, to which Emily elbows her again.

"So, um, what have you girls been doing up here?" Nicky asks. Standing in the doorway, Kaylie clings to Nicky by his waist and he hugs her back just as tight.

"You know," Emily says. "Girl…talk."

"Dishing shit about boys like you," Lauren translates.

"Sounds fun," Nicky says distractedly. He walks away from Kaylie and invites himself into Payson's room, zeroing in on the pictures that line the mirror above the dresser. Majority is of the Four, but there's one snapshot from gymnastics camp that Nicky pays careful attention to. "Hey, Payson, I saw all the postcards from Faith on your refrigerator. Your mom was telling me that she actually called you? Is she back in New York?"

"Not that I know," Payson replies. "It was a couple weeks back. She was in London, eating fish and chips outside some castle that she was really excited about. She said she found a calling card on the ground and decided to use it. We talked for a while, going off on different tangents." Payson laughs. "Still seems like the same Faith."

Turning to face the gymnast with a faint smile, Nicky says, "It must have been nice to hear her voice. I get postcards now and then, but she moves around so much it's hard to know where she really is or how she's doing."

Lauren lets out an uncontrollable laugh, glancing over at Kaylie. "Out of his system, huh? Doesn't seem so 'over it' to me."

"I'm sure Faith is capable of taking care of herself…or getting out of whatever trouble she's definitely getting into," Payson goes on, drawing Nicky's attention away from Lauren and Kaylie and the new storm brewing between them. "She sounded really happy."

Nicky nods. "Good. That's what matters."

Payson and Nicky don't really know each other, but it seems they've bonded over their mutual love for Faith Giancana. Even if they might never be close or really know each other, they connect over missing Faith and knowing what it's like to have her in and out of their lives.

"Well, um, Mrs. Keeler sent me up here to call you to come eat. Food is ready."

Kaylie makes a sound of uncertainty, again moving across the room so she's right at Nicky's side. "Hmm, I don't know. We all saw you cooking. Are you sure it's safe?"

"Says the girl who couldn't boil water." Nicky slides his arm around her hips. "How are you even questioning me right now?"

Kaylie laughs and grabs Nicky's hand, leading him to the door. They talk quietly as they make their way down the hallway and then the stairs. When the floorboards cease to squeak, it lets the others know Kaylie and Nicky are out of earshot and so they can talk openly.

First things first, Payson turns to Lauren. "Was that really necessary?"

"Was what necessary?"

"Oh, just you unnecessarily provoking Kaylie like you always do," Emily points out, innocently looking up at the ceiling. Lauren pretends to be shocked at the accusation even if Payson and Emily aren't buying what she's selling.

"Hold up. Why am I the bad guy here?" Lauren asks. "I was just giving Kaylie a daily dose of brutal honesty. She's the one who got all defensive about it and started implying that I'm some big slut just because I don't think sex is what dreams are made of. Plus, did you honestly want her using _our_ jeans for her own selfish intentions? Guys, think about it. We share those jeans. No wash rule. Nicky Russo jizz."

Payson grimaces. "There goes my appetite."

Emily heaves a heavy sigh. "You don't think she'll stay upset, right?"

"She'll get over it." Lauren bounces to her feet. "Her and Nicky will have sex in the back of his car on Valentine's Day as planned or even sooner and she'll forget all about wanting to make the jeans apart of it. God, right when I think she's done chasing fairytales…"

"Well, it's hard not to when you have a fairytale sitting in your lap like Kaylie does." Emily carefully folds the jeans and hands them to Lauren with the same reverence as if she were handling a priceless relic. "I don't think we can blame or judge her for taking what she has and trying to live it to the fullest. Isn't that what we're all trying to do?"

"I don't blame her and I can't judge, but Kaylie has everything she could possibly want. If she's so happy then why is she so insecure?" Lauren asks. "Ditching us for Nicky the first couple of times, okay, but ditching us to hang out with Maeve Benson and now this with the jeans? I'd ask her what's up, but I don't enjoy her deflecting." Lauren's fierce exterior fades as she runs her hand down the denim. "You know I wasn't, like, trying to be a bitch, right? Put Kaylie and me in a room and it just sort of ends this way _all the time_. I'm getting sick of it."

Emily frowns. "Lo…"

"It's just something we have to work at," Payson says. "No one said friendship is easy."

"Understatement of epic proportions," Emily says. It seems like her life is filled with these.

"Come on, we don't want to keep everyone waiting." Payson grabs Emily by her forearm and hoists her up off the bed. Once Lauren carefully places the jeans back into her purse, she spends a good five minutes in front of the mirror and another five touching up her makeup.

"PAYSON! GIRLS! THE FOOD IS GETTING COLD!"

"Okay, mom! We'll be right down!"

Emily skips out of the room and Lauren follows after her at a much slower pace (she is in heels). Grabbing a hold of the doorknob, Payson is about to shut it after her, but something catches her eye at the very last second. It's the same photo that had Nicky's undivided attention. She remembers getting it in the mail, snug in a standard envelope. The return address cites Florida and a certain Summer Van Horne.

With a Texas sunset as their backdrop, Payson's hair looks like ropes of gold and Faith's skin is as flushed as her smile is wide. The two of them sit on the front steps of cabin nine with Kelly between them, mid-laugh, so unusually unguarded. Austin is a step down from the girls, his eyes on Payson and a smile tugging at his lips.

Payson doesn't know why exactly, but it's the last picture she looks at every time she leaves her room. It's become somewhat of a routine. Hearing her mom calling out for her yet again, beckoning her back to the real world, Payson snaps off her bedroom light and closes the door, leaving behind the frozen, suspended memories.

...

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><p><strong>Authors' Note:<strong> The turnout for the prologue was amazing and unexpected. It's so good to see so many people excited to read this story since we are excited to share it with you!

So, which side are you on? Lauren or Kaylie? Why are we even choosing sides? Well, a lot of things changed since the summer and we'll jump right into that next update. For now, _review_! We'll send more personal thanks and replies soon enough.

You know the drill. **Updates = Sundays** (for sentimental reasons).

**Review.**

#WeFaB #LLD2 #LLDforever


	3. On a Monday Morning

**Warning: **Hold on to your hearts, lovers. Someone's must break.

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><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

_February_.

February is strange, unfairly sandwiched between winter and spring. The sun rises early and filters in through windows with curtains forgetfully drawn back. It's freezing, the kind of cold that keeps teenage girls wrapped up in their Egyptian cotton sheets on early weekday mornings. That's how Lauren Tanner starts every single school day.

_Beep. Beep. Beep_.

Her fingers seek the off button of that devil-incarnate device, nails with intricate zebra design, perfect and professionally applied. She gropes the edge of the bedside table and when she finally finds the digital clock, Lauren forms a fist and pounds the top.

Lauren remembers a time—just last year in fact—where she couldn't wait to get up and go to school. First she'd spend hours pouring over her appearance, picking the best makeup for her outfit that day and styling her hair to satisfy her mood. She couldn't wait to make her grand entrance, ready to hear the latest gossip and start new rumors.

Nowadays, dropping out and studying for the GED seems like a more appealing idea.

"Lauren! You're going to be late _again_! The last thing I want is my secretary interrupting another meeting with Matsui wanting to discuss how tardiness leads to an 'unfulfilled life' and all that other trash where he implies you're going to become a go-go dancer!"

Lauren tucks her sheets even tighter around her body. Usually, once she shuts off the demon alarm, relief and silence floods in and gives her an extra fifteen minutes, a slice of heaven if Lauren's ever known one. Now she has her dad barking at her, talking about go-go dancers.

Steve Tanner is a big name in Boulder, in the United States and even internationally. Lauren doesn't know what he does exactly, what Tanner International is, but it paid for the house and the cute car that's all hers. Though he still works around the clock, Steve is never gone for longer than a week at a time. With him home, them spending quality time, Lauren doesn't think her home life has ever been this stable.

"Lauren! Did you hear me?"

"But daddy!" she shouts back. "Go-go dancers are classy! Their outfits are totally sexy and it isn't like they take their clothes off! They dance in cages, not on guys with—"

"Lauren Tanner, I don't want you finishing that sentence! I don't even want to know how you know that…" Her father's voice grows closer. Pulling the sheets off from over her head, Lauren sees Steve poke his head through her door, another day and another suit.

"Television. Duh."

"Coffee's already brewing," he says. "Now, up! The way I see it, another week of school means you're just that much closer to summer."

"And they say all Tanners are cynics," Lauren purrs, her arm hanging over the side of her bed and swaying. In a softer, sleepy voice, she whispers, "I'll be right down, daddy."

"Don't take too long," he warns. "I mean it about this being late for school business. I buy you a car so you can get around easier and still, _still_ you're late for homeroom!"

Eyes closed, her head on her pillow, Lauren listens to her father's loafers against the smooth marble floor go farther and quieter. Another minute and Lauren reaches for her iPhone. One new text and she knows exactly who from. Lauren smiles before she even reads it.

"_The farther backward you can look, the farther forward you will see." – Winston Churchill / Good morning, Lo. :-)_

This daily routine, waking up to a text, is what's known as Razor Inspires Awesome. Apparently, with Damon MIA and their drummer, Bats, buckling down before all his friends graduate and leave him behind, the Sheltered Pups is no more, which leaves Razor with a lot of free time. He fills it with marathons of _Criminal Minds_. The episodes are loaded with quotes that are, in Razor's words, "too good not to share."

Basically, Razor is like one of those Word of the Day calendars except Lauren gets as many words as he can fit in a text. It's not so much about these supposedly life-altering quotes from life-altering people, but the fact that Razor has her on his mind day-to-day. It would totally ruin it if Razor mass texts everyone the same quote so Lauren doesn't ask. That's as much fantasy as she'll allow in her life.

Lauren texts back: _I hate Mondays_.

Groaning, Lauren finally gets out of bed, not ready to start the day, but left with no choice. After spending some quality time with the mirror, a touch of eyeshadow here, eyeliner there, and turning her hair into loose curls of gold, Lauren changes her clothes and heads downstairs where her mug of coffee awaits. Steve has the morning paper open on the kitchen counter, sneaking peeks at the comics between babble about the economy. Sliding beside her dad, Lauren opens her newest text from Razor.

_I bet Mondays hate you just as much. Just do what I do. Show it whos its daddy n make it yr bitch. _

After texting back a simple, "_always_," Lauren dives straight into her coffee. She's never been a big coffee-drinker, but during the summer AJ had fresh coffee waiting every time she woke up and drinking it became a habit. Staring into her mug reminds her of the black sheep in the Cruz family and how she has no idea what he's up to.

"I should get going. Another long day at the office."

"Hold up!" Lauren stops him. "Do you really have a long day at the office or are you just trying to avoid talking about you and Chloe Kmetko practically dry humping at the Keeler's?"

A loud gurgling sound erupts in his throat and Steve nearly spits up his coffee. "Dry humping?" Steve opens his eyes as wide as go. "First go-go dancers and now we're talking about dry humping? Why do I get the feeling Mark and Payson don't talk about these sort of things at their breakfast table?"

"You brought up go-go dancers and avoidance is useless. Dad, if you want my opinion, there are few things I'd love more than to be Emily's Evil Stepsister or, her _other_ Evil Stepsister, but you and _Chloe Kmetko_? A certain Kanye song comes to mind…"

Lauren hums a few bars of "Gold Digger" and loudly sips her coffee.

"Ow, _that_ is horrible and not to mention wrong. It's not what you think." Steve pulls out what might be the worst cliché line in the history of cliché lines. So much so that Lauren makes her appall visible. "It was just two old friends catching up. Plus, she's dating someone. Even asked me if I could help find him a job."

"Shamelessly begging for a handout? Tacky."

Steve gives his daughter that look, brows narrowed, eyes squinted almost to the point of being closed. Lauren gets variations of this look from different people throughout the day and they're all telling her the exact same thing.

Staring into her coffee, Lauren sighs. "I know. I know. Lauren, be nice."

"Exactly." After a quick glance at the face of his expensive Rolex, Steve curses. "Alrighty. Nice chat. I want you at school _on time_ and if you're going to come home late the least you can do is text to let me know. Okay?"

She nods. "Same goes for you."

Steve plants a kiss on his daughter's forehead, letting his fingers smooth down her shoulder as he pulls away. Though she plays casual, Lauren adores moments like this, with Steve parenting. Though her goal of the summer had been to get her mother back, this unexpected outcome, having her father, is much better.

"Have a good day, daddy!"

"You too, sweetie."

While Steve speeds off, Lauren stays a bit longer, texting Razor and finishing her coffee. So far it doesn't seem like such a bad routine. She waits for the very last second, until she absolutely has to go to the prison known as Taft High School. It's only a prison in the sense that the law requires them to be there from eight to three (though on Wednesday they start at nine) for five days a week from August to May.

In actuality, it reminds Lauren a lot more of the Lion King, how the lions all lounge on Pride Rock while all the other animals remain below, forced to bow to those higher on the food chain. Then there are the outer limits, the Wastelands, the Elephant Graveyard, Home of the Rejects, where the rogue lions stalk. Lauren's new territory.

The drive isn't too long, especially with how her need for speed wins out over her reluctance to go to school. Parking her little car in its usual spot across from the football field, Lauren shoves her _Principals of Economics_ textbook into her bag and shoulders it. Before pushing her door open, Lauren takes a minute to look over her reflection in the mirror. Force of habit is all.

There's tapping on her window, but Lauren doesn't stop to acknowledge it until she smoothes down every flyaway. Ike can wait. He's outside her door, wearing the same olive green jacket he's worn every time they've hung out since last summer. It never ceases to amaze her how she manages to overlook his lack of taste in clothes, especially in public.

It isn't that Ike is ugly. He has all his fingers and all his toes, no horrible disfigurement as far as the eye can see. His hair is still longish, falls into his eyes a lot, but it's less scraggly since Lauren took a pair of scissors to it (she still can't believe he agreed to that) and he actually washes it now. He's on the shorter side and pencil-skinny with a troublesome smile. He's so _Ike_. Lauren doesn't mind him around, but she can't even imagine dating him.

"Good day, Miss Tanner," he greets her.

She nods to him as she gets out of her car. Ike closes the door after her and Lauren presses her finger firmly against the button on the keychain, sure to lock it, alarm set. "There isn't anything good about a Monday morning spent at school. Totes a combo from hell."

"Runs with the gutter punks, but still talks like a Royal."

Lauren laughs. "Last I checked you went by _Rejects_. Plain and simple. Or, well, there's Laguna Losers if you'd rather be called that."

The irony of one of Boulder's slums having the same name as California's precious ocean-side city (and once reality show) doesn't escape anyone. It gives the Royals something to laugh about. Laguna, whose poverty rate is greater than even University Hills and Lafayette, is right on the edge of the district, mixing Taft High's student body with both the richest and the poorest in Boulder. The dividing line is precise and the tension is thick.

"But whatever. Labels are lame and people who sit around thinking up labels are even lamer," Lauren continues. "Who refers to you as 'gutter punks' again?"

"I do," Ike says. Apparently he's choosing to completely ignore everything Lauren just said. "What? You don't think it'll catch on?"

No. Shut it down. Because her reasoning should be obvious, Lauren doesn't even address it and changes the subject. "So, Operation Soul Skater?"

"Is a go!" Ike bounces up on the tips of his combat boots. "I checked with Marlene, the chick whose face you said looks like a pincushion, yeah, she serves her work study in the caf, hates Alison just as much and agreed to help. Our plan is set in motion. It's all going down tomorrow."

"Perfect." As they walk towards school, Lauren insists they take the long way. It'd be easy and quick to cut across the football field, but not at the expense of Lauren's cute new sandals so they take the sidewalk that winds between the fields and the senior parking lot.

This is also apart of the routine, meeting up with Ike and walking to the administration building. A part of the routine that makes Lauren resent herself is the way her eyes automatically search the senior lot for a red convertible. Every day Kaylie rides to school with Maeve Benson. Her usual stall is empty, meaning Kaylie isn't at school yet.

Lauren has half a mind to seek Kaylie out and talk about what happened at the Keeler's. When it comes to the two of them, things spin out of control too easily and Lauren isn't proud of it. She loathes the idea of having to apologize in front of Kaylie's new Royal crew, but then again, nothing can top her Livestream confession.

"Yo, LoTan! Lo—Tan!"

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

"Well, you didn't seem to mind the first ten times I said it in the last minute." Ike smiles. "Where's your head at?"

"Nothing. Nowhere. You were saying?"

"My board got tapped." Ike steps on the tail of his scratched skateboard and catches the front. Turning it over, there's a giant eye painted on the deck. It isn't as clean as the ones painted all around Boulder. The paint bled—a rush job. "Big Brother is definitely watching," he says in his best zombie voice.

"Creepy," Lauren says, more about the eye than Ike's fail voice. "See, Benny, that's what happens when you just leave your things around. Didn't your mom ever teach you that?"

"She was a little busy getting high."

"Mine too."

He groans. "And by the way, I prefer Ikey B. Benny is not cool."

"Neither is LoTan and the fact that you prefer Ikey B over Benny explains _a lot_." Lauren's phone buzzes and she checks it immediately. "Emily is looking for us."

"Crap. I didn't get a chance to finish my practice questions." Ike rummages through the pockets of his Goodwill jeans and pulls out a handful of crumpled dollar bills and a tin of mints. "Miss Tanner, I will give you all of these little treasures if you'll do it for me. It's math. Rhombus and cumulous and shapes and stars, things like that."

"Aren't you in Algebra?"

Ike tilts his head. "Is that not Algebra…?"

Lauren doesn't know why Emily even bothers with this one. "Just look in the back of the book for the answers."

"No," he says. "This isn't homework. It's extra equations Emily assigned me to do in addition to my regular homework and, well, I didn't do my regular homework so why would I do the extra stuff, know what I mean?"

Lauren laughs. "What I know is Tutor Girl is going to be pissed."

"Yep. I figured as much."

As they walk down the concrete path leading to the front entrance, all the heads turn to stare. Lauren Tanner, the former queen, the fallen. Despite her loss of popularity, Lauren hasn't been forgotten. She's still a showstopper, demanding attention everywhere she goes. Now instead of masking their fear with empty flattery, they show their outward fear and disgust.

Ike rushes ahead so he can open the door for Lauren like the little manservant he is. She walks right through and it's just her luck that the first face she sees is one she can't stand. That's another con with living in Boulder. Not only does everyone know everyone, but also everyone sees everyone too often.

Carter Anderson is across the way, near a bank of metal lockers with a basketball tucked between his hip and the inside of his arm. There had once been a time where Lauren adored his laugh and his smile. Now she feels nauseous at the sound of his annoying turkey gobble and feels the need to refer him to a teeth whitening professional.

When Carter looks her way, Lauren turns her head in the opposite direction, a fake laugh at whatever it is Ike is going on about now. She hasn't talked to Carter since last summer and that's exactly how things should be.

…

Running is as close to drugs as Kaylie Cruz has ever and will ever get. It makes her heart beat fast in her chest, her breath quicken, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. It makes her feel alive.

Mondays and Wednesdays at 5 a.m. Kaylie meets Payson for an early morning run. It's their own personal form of bonding like how Lauren and Emily watch TV for hours, talking about fictional characters like they're real. With Kaylie and Payson they run side by side and it surprises Kaylie when she manages to keep up with _the_ Payson Keeler.

If asked, Kaylie could probably map out her life with the same activates on the same days every week. She doesn't like to think of it as predictable or boring. Kaylie sees it as stable. After the roller coaster her life has proven to be in the past, Kaylie likes stable.

"So, you aren't still upset, right?" Payson asks. "About the other day with the jeans?"

"Over it," Kaylie answers, leaning forward with hands bracing her knees. "Lauren turned down my proposal because she, I don't know, has some weird thing for undermining everything I try to do."

"Kaylie, I don't think Lauren is purposefully trying to undermine you."

"Really?"

Payson stretches and answers, "It's just how Lo is. You know that."

"You know, Pay, I'm getting really tired of letting her get away with everything, using that same lame excuse every time," Kaylie says with a huff. She's hyperaware of how she's sweating buckets while Payson has barely broken a sweat. So not fair.

"I get what you're saying, but Lauren's been through a lot," Payson says, always with such levelheaded honesty. "She's always struggled with her impulses, but at least now she's really making an effort. I think we can all cut her some slack. Your date with Nicky will be fine. Pants or no pants." Kaylie laughs and Payson realizes what she said. "You know what I meant."

"You would have sided with me, right?"

"Honestly?" Payson gulps, hoping Kaylie doesn't ask for something she doesn't want to know. "The whole thing came off really creepy. You did sort of plan losing your virginity while wearing jeans that belong to all of us."

"I wouldn't be wearing them _during_…"

"Not what I want to hear and not exactly my point," Payson says with a laugh. "Maybe if you just stopped at wanting to wear them to the Valentine's Day dance it could have worked out."

"I just thought I'd be honest. You know what a big step this is and how much it means to me. I was just looking to my best friends to understand and be supportive."

"Why do you even need the pants?"

"Mostly, for the magic," Kaylie says quietly. "Things with Nicky are great, but it isn't the same, which only makes sense because Barcelona was vacation and now we're back to our real lives, but I miss that feeling. I was hoping wearing the jeans would bring that feeling back."

"He cares about you. Even my parents can see that," Payson says, "which brings me to the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. Kelly and Faith. Nicky cares about you and them, but in different ways. I don't think it has to be you or them in his life. The other night, what you said about Faith and Kelly and Nicky _getting them out of his system_."

"Did it come out sounding bad?" Looking down at the gravel path, Kaylie kicks a stone with the toe of her pink and white running shoes. "I'm sorry, Payson. I had no idea."

"I know you didn't mean it like that," Payson says. "You didn't mean it like that, right?"

"I didn't mean to sound offensive, but you know they aren't friends like we're friends, right?" Kaylie says. "We aren't codependent like they are or _were_. Nicky _tattooed_ himself for Kelly. Faith has her own room at Nicky's house. I accidentally walked in the other day and he told me it's hers, decorated and everything. You have to admit that's weird."

"It's just as weird as the four of us sharing a pair of magic jeans."

"True," Kaylie admits. "Nicky, he used to hold back a lot and I always thought that it was because he had Faith and Kelly and took their feelings and reactions into consideration and now that they aren't friends anymore things would get easier."

"And how is that going for you?"

"I really care about him and I know he cares about me," Kaylie says. "I trust him more than I thought I'd ever trust a guy after Carter and I meant it when I said I think I'm ready."

"It sounds like you have everything figured out. Good for you. I think you deserve it."

"Thanks, Pay."

Once they reach the parking lot, the girls are met with a beautiful sight. The lavender haze of the early morning colors the sky, a few rays of light filtering through, bathing the mountains, making them take on a soft shade pink, Kaylie's favorite color.

"It's nice to start the day looking at this," Payson says, eyes out in the distance.

"Sure is."

After taking time to admire a sight only Colorado could offer, Kaylie and Payson go their separate ways. Always finding new ways to push herself (the overachiever) Payson jogs the rest of the way home, but Kaylie prefers a leisurely walk. When she returns to the Cruz castle, Kaylie goes straight to the shower and prepares for another day.

Ronnie decided to give this mother gig another try (third time's the charm) and so far it's been working. Kaylie doesn't let herself believe it. Preparing for the worst has become a reflex.

With her phone pressed to her ear, Ronnie maneuvers the kitchen, letting the stove sizzle. There's a bowl of yogurt on the counter, sprinkled with granola, slices of kiwis and strawberries neatly arranged atop. Pressing her phone into her shoulder, Ronnie whispers, "I'm making eggs if you want."

"No, yogurt's fine," Kaylie assures her. She knows Ronnie takes cooking classes in Denver and takes every opportunity to show off the skills she's picked up.

With just Kaylie and Ronnie in the house, they usually just eat at the kitchen counter. Sitting at the dinner table in the next room with all those empty seats just reminds Kaylie how lonely the house can be. Though they fight mercilessly whenever together, Kaylie does miss her brothers. Leo is at school and AJ relocated to Palm Springs for Amelia.

Right as Kaylie slips a spoon of yogurt past her lips, Ronnie finishes her phone conversation and joins her daughter. Though time has been good to her, making Ronnie look younger than the age on her driver's license, she's been so stressed lately and it doesn't help.

"Tired out already?" Kaylie asks.

"It's this merger. We're getting a batch of new artists shipped in and there's mixed up and missing paperwork that needs to be sorted. You think my job is all fun and games, hanging out with rock stars all day? As unbelievable as it sounds, your mom is going to be hard at work, dealing with managers over the phone, sorting this out and fitting in meetings."

"I'd gladly take that over falling asleep in Marcus—I mean—Mr. Simon's English class," Kaylie says. Seeing Ronnie's face come alive with interest, Kaylie takes a bigger spoonful of yogurt into her mouth and swallows slowly.

"Marcus, huh? Do all your teachers let you call them by their first name?"

"No. Just him and he does it with everyone as long as it's hush-hush in front of the faculty," Kaylie explains. "Younger, naïve, thinks if he can get us to trust him that we might actually learn in his class. It is Boulder, mom. Did I mention he's a vegan?"

"Which explains it all," Ronnie says. "So is he cute?"

Ronnie—her friend—starts to take over instead of Ronnie—her mom—and Kaylie stabs at a piece of fruit. "Mom, remember the boundaries we talked about?"

"Kaylie, you aren't any fun," Ronnie says, her finger tracing rings around the rim of her coffee mug. "Tell me you're at least learning something."

"I've gotten really good at texting under the desk," Kaylie says. "With one hand."

"Astounding. I knew we should have put you in private school," Ronnie teases. "Texting. Ha. AJ's chosen major if he ever made it to college." Her words are coated in such negative energy, a reminder of the lingering tension between Ronnie and her middle son. "Speaking of your brothers, they should be home by the end of the week."

"Right." Kaylie nods. "Amelia's baptism."

"Leo, AJ and even that Shauna, all staying here. Just call us Hotel de la Cruz. Your father hasn't returned any of my calls. All I know is he better show. It is his first-born grandchild's baptism and the only reason we're even doing this is because his mother insisted. Oh, and I almost forgot. You can invite Nicky if you want."

Ronnie's approval of her boyfriend draws out a small smile. Asking him to join her crazy family for a milestone like this is big. The last thing Kaylie wants is to get her hopes up, freak him out and be disappointed. Instead of letting her excitement get the best of her, Kaylie casually answers, "I'll see if he isn't busy."

The doorbell rings right on schedule. It echoes through the house, but Kaylie doesn't look up from her yogurt and Ronnie goes on eating her plate of egg whites and fruit. Neither acknowledges the echoing ring. That's what the help is for.

"Knock, knock!" a singsong voice comes from the door, accompanied by the rhythmic click of heels against polished hardwood floors. "Kaylie Cruz's chauffer reporting for duty!"

Maeve Benson, high school senior and aspiring model, moves like she's on a runway, long legs taking such poised steps. Her dark hair falls like a glossy waterfall, nearly reaching her waist. Maeve is the most popular girl at Taft and it's obvious why, from her beauty to her carefully assembled outfit. She has star quality and people aren't stupid, they see that and cling on.

"Good morning!" Maeve greets the Cruz women. Ronnie stands and the two embrace, air kisses on each cheek. Maeve curls a lock of Kaylie's hair around her finger in her personal way of saying hello and Kaylie returns the sentiments with a smile. "Ready for another Monday?"

Bringing up her hand in front of her lips, Kaylie, with food in her mouth, replies, "Almost."

"Have you eaten, Maeve?" Ronnie inquires. "Don't be shy. I can whip something up."

"Oh, you know I'm far from shy. That's kind of you, ma'am, but I ate before I left the house," Maeve says. "Like mom always says, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but I'm sure you're a fantastic cook. No doubt judging by the way my Kaylie-cakes is stuffing herself."

"Hey," Kaylie says. "Did you wake up before five to go running this morning? I didn't think so."

"Touché," Maeve volleys. "Maybe I should. Bikini season is just around the corner."

"Exactly what I was thinking and I cannot wait," Kaylie says. Honestly, she longs to leave the house without needing a scarf and layered clothes. It's been too long.

Maeve laughs the way you'd expect Miss America to. "Ready to show off the bod for the boo?"

"_Maeve_."

"What? Your mom is cool," Maeve says. Ronnie's face brightens and Maeve continues to dazzle with her contest-winning smile. Kaylie starts to eat faster, eager to get going.

"Okay, done. We are so out of here." Kaylie slides off the tall chair and takes the bowl and spoon to the sink. "Thanks for breakfast, mom. I'll see you tonight."

"Have fun at school, girls."

"Bye!" Maeve waves elegantly even with Kaylie literally dragging her to the front door. Maeve's movement is less graceful, more like the clunky sled to Kaylie's determined sled dog and this doesn't stop until they're in the driveway, standing at Maeve's hotrod red convertible.

There isn't anything Kaylie wants more than her own car. It drives her insane that her brothers' cars are in the garage, collecting dust, but to use them is a crime punishable by humiliation in Nicky's presence.

"So your mom is in love with me. No need to be jealous, Kaylie. Most people are."

"Oh, my God." Kaylie slams the door after getting in. "I don't think I've ever met someone more conceited."

Maeve laughs, adjusting her mirror. "It's not conceit. It's confidence. And it's all Maeve."

"Good Lord."

Maeve pulls out of the driveway and is on to their next stop. Kaylie has always found it a little funny how Maeve picks Kaylie up first and reserve the passenger seat for her then go to get her boyfriend, Max, and exile him to the backseat. When they pull up in front of his apartment complex, Maeve doesn't even get out. She simply honks the horn and puts the top down.

"Max, let's go!" Maeve shouts. "I swear, my boyfriend takes longer to get ready than the two of us combined. I'm dating a metro."

Max Spencer, dashing and debonair (at least for a high school senior) walks out in a polo that clings to his athletic body and fitted jeans, accessorized with leather shoes and dark sunglasses. He lifts his professional camera and snaps pictures of Maeve and Kaylie who automatically pull dramatic poses.

Once their little photo shoot is over, Max kisses his girlfriend. Kaylie watches them for a moment, thinking about what a perfect, adorable couple they are, and when she sees Maeve slip him the tongue, Kaylie has seen enough. Max and Maeve are the epitome of young love, emphasized by their fearless way of showing it.

When they finally pull away, Maeve swipes her fingers against the moist corner of her lips. "Get in, loser, we're going to be late."

Max obediently hops in the backseat. "Can we hit up a McDonald's on the way? I'm starving."

"What?" Maeve backs the car out of the driveway. "Mommy didn't make you breakfast?"

"It's February. She's in New York for Fashion Week," Max replies. That bit of information turns Maeve's head and Kaylie has to grab and steady the steering wheel before they crash into the neighbor's mailbox. "And I can't even toast bread without it burning."

"Do you know how lucky you are?" Maeve asks, squeezing her fingers around the wheel. "You've been to Paris and seen runway shows! While your mom's off, sipping champie with Michael Kors, you want to eat a sausage McMuffin for breakfast. How do you even have abs?"

"Because boys can eat anything and still look like Taylor Lautner," Kaylie says. "I'll order a salad and Nicky gets a bacon burger, greasy onion rings, a milkshake and not gain a pound."

"God must have been a women-hater."

Kaylie's eyes widen instinctively. "_Maeve_."

"What? Even the Bible says he created woman as an afterthought or because his perfect little man was lonely, like, we're just here to serve the 'superior' sex, which is not true."

"I, for one, am glad God created women," Max says sweetly.

"Because if God didn't, you'd be taking the bus," Maeve replies just as sweetly, "and Adam would've gotten super horny and defiled one of God's animals. Then all the Bible stories would be about bestiality. Ha, that would've made Sunday school so much more interesting."

Kaylie's closed lips pull to one side, perplexed. "I thought neither of you believe in God?"

"We don't," Maeve and Max answer in unison.

With Amelia's impending baptismal, Kaylie finds herself thinking more and more about religion. She thinks of going to church with her grandparents every Sunday during her summer in Spain and her talks with Nicky. Though she wouldn't consider herself devout, Kaylie does like the idea of believing in something. She just hasn't figured out what that is yet. Before she can ponder any longer, Kaylie sees a new text waiting for her on her phone.

It's from Emily: _Hang before homeroom?_

Sliding down in her seat, Kaylie doesn't know how to reply. It isn't that she doesn't want to hang out with Emily. Kaylie just can't help that she's still bitter over the other day. While Maeve tries to order Max something semi-healthier and Max tries to shout over her, wanting pancakes and a McMuffin, Kaylie texts back: _Can't, but see u in English. _

Swallowing the guilt, Kaylie gives her attention to Maeve who gives in and lets Max eat whatever he wants. Once they get to school, Maeve's parking space is waiting just like it always is. Kaylie looks through her day planner while Maeve flips through the most recent issue of _Cosmopolitan _and Max stuffs his face.

"Well, well, if it isn't the important peeps. Too cool to hang out with the rest of the animals in the quad?" Alison DiLaurentis asks as she walks by.

"You know it," Maeve says confidently. She is the designated queen bee with Kaylie as her second in command. That would make Alison the jealous lady in waiting, plotting to poison them both. "But if you hear any good gossip don't be afraid to text it along."

"Will do," Alison agrees. "Morning, Max. Kaylie."

Max raises his hand to greet the blonde, busy chewing. Kaylie doesn't say a word. Alison is smart enough to turn away, not expecting any more. Watching the girl go, Kaylie murmurs, "May, I don't know why you tolerate her."

"I wasn't at her party last summer so I didn't experience the whole stomach bug fiasco. Never thought I'd be grateful my parents dragged me along on a Benson Family Vacation to the freaking Grand Canyon. Plus, instead of embracing the humiliation like Lauren Tanner, Alison fought for it, desperate but respectable. She _is_ the reason I'm student body president."

"Making deals with the devil."

"What's life without a few risks?" Maeve giggles. "If I'm not mistaken, Alison told you about everything Lauren did behind your back. Can you imagine if someone didn't step up and let you know? How you'd feel? I'm not saying we should trust A, but she can be useful."

"Hey, Shane!" Max shouts. After shoving the last bits of his food into his mouth, he hurriedly grabs his things and jumps the side of the car. "Gotta go, babe. I'd kiss you, but I'm pretty sure I taste like carbs and processed grease."

"I think I'll chance it," Maeve says. Max backpedals and kisses her. His boys behind him holler and catcall, but neither Max nor Maeve pays them any attention.

"Till hell freezes over," Max whispers, but loud enough for Kaylie to overhear.

"Till hell freezes over."

Max softly pecks Maeve's lips one last time before he goes over to join his friends. Maeve stares after him like she's the luckiest girl in the world, which she kind of is.

"I think you and Max are a shoe-in for cutest couple in the yearbook," Kaylie says. That's the only reason Kaylie is glad Maeve is a year older and a grade above. She never has to compete with Maeve, especially for the coveted Prom Queen crown. Thank God.

"Duh, Kay. My boyfriend is the yearbook editor. It's all set. This year has been perfect so far. I've got you, my bestie, my boyfriend and my bestie dating my boyfriend's cousin. I don't think God could create a better fab four."

Kaylie smiles. "I couldn't agree more."

…

"You know what? You can make your own breakfast, Bruce! Better yet, you can buy your own groceries to make your own breakfast instead of taking all of ours!"

"What did you say to me? Don't walk away when I'm talking to you!"

With her heart violently thumping in her chest, Emily dashes out the front door, slamming it loudly once she's out. She comes to an abrupt stop, scuffed Chucks scraping the battleship gray hallway carpet. Right on the door across from her is an eye in black spray paint. It isn't surprising. She does live in Laguna. The entire neighborhood is a giant dumpsite.

The door behind Emily flies open with Bruce filling the frame. Wearing a tight, stained wifebeater, Bruce's gut sticks out and his face is unshaven, growing a wild beard. He has a fat, flat nose, thin snarling lips and dark, soulless eyes. One thing is for certain—Chloe cannot be dating this gorilla of a man for his looks.

"Now I know your mamma taught you to respect your superiors!" Bruce glowers. "And don't you forget that I am superior!" Emily's refusal to meet his eyes as he talks makes Bruce even angrier. His arm shoots out like a snake, venomous fangs for fingers curling around Emily's arm. "Don't ignore me, girl!"

His fingers dig into her skin to the point where she suspects a bruise. Emily doesn't make things any easier on herself with the way she twists, trying to get away.

"HEY!"

Emily watches Bruce and sees fear flashes across his face. It disappears as quickly as it appeared, but Emily knows she saw it. Bruce's grip loosens and Emily yanks away.

Bruce has completely forgotten about Emily, staring down the hall. When she chases his gaze, Emily sees one of her neighbors. Though she doesn't know his name, Emily knows they go to school together. One glance and anyone could guess he's from Laguna.

He's her age or maybe older (it isn't a surprise if you're from Laguna and on your fifth year of high school), very tall with big hands in fingerless gloves and big feet in tattered sneakers. He's dressed in baggy jeans and a giant navy doorman's jacket with faded gold trim and two lines of silver buttons. He stares straight at Bruce and Emily stares at his red beanie sagged on the back of his head, a fringe of brown hair peeking out from beneath it.

"Do we have a problem?"

Seeing that it's just some stupid kid, Bruce builds back his tough guy front. "Even if we did, it wouldn't be any of your damn business."

"There's no problem," Emily speaks up. She tugs on the sleeve of her sweater, covering her wrist that's still buzzing from when Bruce grabbed her. "I was just leaving."

"We'll talk when you come home."

It makes Emily so mad to hear him refer to her apartment as _home_. Ignoring Bruce, Emily shoves the strap of her bag higher up her shoulder and starts down the hallway, towards the neighbor boy who holds Bruce's gaze until the king of unemployment scowls and returns to the apartment. The whole extreme male dominance thing is also a trademark of Laguna.

As she shuffles down the hallway, Emily hears wheels turning and glances back to see Mr. Red Beanie wheeling his bike behind her. He walks slowly and Emily suspects he has a blatant dislike for awkward conversation. Instead of feeling self-conscious about it, Emily inwardly curses. She was in such a hurry she forgot her bike.

While Mr. Red Beanie presses the elevator button (that doesn't light up) Emily veers for the stairwell. Swinging her backpack in front of her to check the pockets for bus money, Emily wonders if she should thank him. Most people would just walk away, but he didn't.

"Hey!" Emily shouts, hanging back for a second. He looks at her. She looks back. "Thanks for that. I, um, what you did was—"

The elevator forces out a shrill noise that sounds like a cat dying and Mr. Red Beanie just gives Emily a nod before he wheels his bike into the elevator and the doors shaking close.

There's another eye painted on the elevator, but this time in red paint against the black doors. Emily is convinced the culprit lives in her building, the Meadows Heights Apartments. Maintenance is nonexistent, which explains the cracks in the ceiling that leak every time it rains, splitting countertops, grout falling out of the tile, unsafe railings and people constantly getting stuck in the elevator. It really is paradise.

Emily regrets finding the two loose dollar bills in her backpack, wishing she could just call Lauren for a ride. Shaking it off, Emily takes the stairs down and goes to the bus stop.

Bruce is a jerk. There's no denying how scuffles with him have become somewhat routine. For months Emily kept her mouth shut with every one of Bruce's rude comments and every time he shows up drunk, making a mess of everything. Chloe just takes it for reasons unknown and Brian is in denial. When it all becomes too much for Emily, she fights back.

Her mom is usually passed out in her room during these early mornings, exhausted from her bartending shift at Bodacious Boulder, catching a few hours of sleep before her shift at the diner. Brian leaves earlier for school since he has to wheel himself four blocks and out of Laguna to carpool to his private school for the gifted. That leaves Emily and Bruce. Emily isn't too sure how her life has become this.

Chloe sees something completely different compared to Emily and everyone else. Chloe sees possibilities instead of reality, something she shares with Kaylie and a why Emily spends a significant amount of time worrying.

Sitting at the bus stop, Emily digs around in her backpack for breakfast—an apple. Bruce demands she cook him breakfast when Emily doesn't even cook for herself. Rubbing the fruit against her sweater, Emily notices a homeless man poking around in the nearest trashcan.

Pay it forward. Mr. Red Beanie helps out Emily so Emily helps Mr. Hobo.

After shouldering her backpack, Emily stands from the cold medal bench and walks over. Homeless people aren't rare in Boulder. They're everywhere. Most turn up their nose, pretending they don't notice and don't care. Emily can't. If she were in his place, she'd want someone to show her the same kindness.

"Are you hungry?" Emily asks. The man stops, a crushed aluminum can in his grasp. "I, um, I didn't do anything, I swear. I just think…I think you could use it more than me."

The man eyes her a second and Emily holds out the apple. Without moving from where he is, the homeless man extends his hand. It doesn't escape Emily how spasms travel up and down his arm, making him tremor. She places the apple in his palm and smiles. Just as she's about to turn away, the man loudly clears his throat, wanting her attention.

Emily watches as Mr. Hobo returns to his cart and pulls out a folded piece of paper. He holds it out to Emily. "Thank you," she says, and takes it.

Unfolding the piece of paper, Emily reads it in her head.

_Heavenly hurt it gives us;  
>We can find no scar,<br>But internal difference  
>Where the meanings, are.<em>

Eyes tracing every letter, every line, once and then a second time, a chill runs down her spine. Emily isn't so sure it's due to the early February weather. It sounds familiar, like she's read it before, but Emily can't place it. She looks for the homeless man, about to ask him, but he's gone. The bus pulls up to the curb and Emily rushes to catch it.

The entire ride she pours over the poem. Emily finds it hard to concentrate with the younger, giggly girls towards the back singing Damon's single at the top of their lungs and badly.

_You're the song in my head_

_You're the one on repeat_

_You're that girl who I call_

_When I can't go to sleep_

_You're the one who I need_

_When I break and I bleed_

_Take my hand and we'll leave_

_You're everything to me_

Emily is so caught up in the lyrics, imagining her voice in his head, remembering how nervous he'd been about having to compromise on his lyrics and his sound with his producers. He wrote the original with her in mind. That was her Damon, the guy who bought a homeless man an entire meal last summer and all on his own accord.

She recalls the random people who would come up to her when Damon's popularity skyrocketed and they noticed their synched Facebook pages. It looked a little something like:

RANDOM: You're Emily Kmetko, right?

EMILY: …Yes.

RANDOM: So you're, like, dating Damon Young, the musician, right?

EMILY: Yes.

RANDOM: Oh.

And then they'd walk away and Lauren would tease the crap out of them as they go. The first few times it happened Emily found it entertaining. After a while, though, it got tiring. Now Emily prays that no one asks her. What is she supposed to say?

EMILY: Actually, we broke up. Well, _we_ didn't really break up. One day, while I was seriously contemplating running away to escape totalBRUCEtarianism, going to live with my real dad in California, I got a call from my boyfriend's manager who then proceeded to break up with me for him. I know! She hung up and then I cried for three days straight, lived off ice cream and let Lauren posted rude comments on his YouTube videos. So…that's the long answer. Short answer: No. I'm not dating Damon Young. Not anymore.

She'd die if she had to actually use that, but has it in her back pocket just incase.

Damon is a mysterious and he always played it up, but something doesn't feel right about this. Emily could feel them growing apart, the distance proving to be a great nemesis of commitment.

"Emily Kmetko, you know I wouldn't mind picking you up for school, right?" Lauren meets her like every morning. "Plus, with all the biking you do, your legs are going to be majorly sculpted and hotter than mine come time to show them off. Not something I want."

"And you driving through Laguna in your new car is something you want? I'd pay to see that," Emily says. "But then I wouldn't be able to actually pay you because I took the bus."

"Why? Bike got stolen?"

"No," Emily says, though she admits the assumption isn't completely farfetched. "I don't want to talk about it." She looks to Lauren's other side, but finds it empty. "Where's Ike?"

"He's trying to finish those practice questions you assigned him. He told me not to tell you he didn't even try to do them, but boo-hoo for him. Hoes before bros."

It's so great to have Lauren on her side. To think before last summer they weren't close at all. There was always that disconnect between Lauren and Emily, them always being on opposite ends of the spectrum. What they went through, both individually and together, bridged the gap. As odd as it sounds, sometimes Emily feels like Lauren Tanner keeps her grounded.

Naturally, when a good moment is ruined it's by Carter Anderson.

"Hey co-worker!" Carter bounces up to the two girls right when they reach Emily's locker.

"Hey," Emily says reluctantly. She spins the dial, hoping Carter will take a hint and leave, but by the way he remains there, that isn't likely. "Um, do you need something, Carter?"

"Besides one of those dog shock collars?" Lauren asks. Emily stares at her. Six months of the silent treatment broken and for that?

"Oh, Lauren, I didn't see you there," Carter says. "Actually, I completely forgot you go here."

Before Lauren can respond, eyes already lit with resentment, Emily slams her metal locker, drawing both their attention. "What is it you need, Carter?"

"I have a dentist appointment this afternoon and Pete says I need to find someone willing to cover my shift. Could you? It's slow in the afternoons, but I figure it runs right into your evening shift. The tips could be better, but the tips can always be better. What do you say?"

"Sure," Emily agrees. "I'm always looking for extra shifts."

"I knew I could count on you. Thanks," Carter says. He lightly pounds a closed fist against Emily's shoulder before he walks off, ready to rejoin his jock flock.

"Em, did I seriously _do_ that guy? His hair has more personality than he does."

"Yes, you did," Emily reminds her. "But at least you took off the jeans yourself…?"

"I did, didn't I?" Lauren smiles proudly. "So I guess I'm hanging out at the Shack today."

"I'd appreciate the ride. Thanks." Emily loves how it's automatic. No planning or persuading needed. "Lo, do you know how many times since I started working there that you come to hang out, but don't eat anything?"

"Um, every time I've ever walked in there," she answers. "As if I'd even touch that stuff after you told me the calorie count of a slice of your specialty cardboard with cheese? I'll pass."

"Lame," Emily says, looking at her cell phone. "I texted Kay to see if she wants to hang out, maybe talk about the other day, but she does not."

"Don't worry about it. I'm better company anyways."

Still managing a smile even when her life feels like a house of cards about to collapse, Emily links arms with Lauren in an_ off to see the wizard_ fashion and head to homeroom.

…

"So how was your run with Kaylie?"

"Good."

Payson takes another bite of her apple, the crisp sound filling the silence that follows a question and answer. She sits at the table in the kitchen with her dad at the head, perusing the classifieds, Becca eating oatmeal and Kim busying herself in the kitchen as always.

"I couldn't help, but notice the tension during dinner the other night," Kim goes on. "What exactly happened when you four were upstairs? I almost felt bad for sending Nixon as a messenger. I didn't know I was sending him straight into the eye of the storm."

Mark lowers his newspaper and lifts his brows. "Tension?"

Kim laughs. "Just like a man to not read into the subtext."

"Subtext?" Mark looks even more confused. "What subtext?"

A man in a house of women. God bless him.

"Subtext aside," Becca interrupts. "He goes by _Nicky_ now, remember?"

Who could forget? Kaylie only corrected the Keelers last night during dinner. Nicky had quickly jumped in, insisting he didn't mind, nervously explaining that he goes by both, but with how insistent Kaylie was, Mark and Kim agreed to go with Nicky for now on.

"Right," Kim says slowly, "but isn't that a little confusing with his twin sister?"

Thank you, Faith, for setting them up for this situation and not even being here to diffuse it.

"That…isn't important. And just so you don't worry, it wasn't a storm," Payson says, tossing the core of her apple into the trash. A storm would leave everything in ruins much like last summer. In comparison, the barbeque was barely a blimp on the Friendship Destruction radar. "Shouldn't we be going soon?"

Kim nods. "We probably should. Becca, hurry it up."

"Look at my girls, off to save the world one rotation at a time," Mark stands to give each of his daughters a hug and a kiss before turning his full attention to his wife. "Meanwhile, your dad is on the hunt for a new job, hopefully something that doesn't keep me away from my family."

"Good luck, dad," Payson says softly. There's nothing she could possibly want more, not even to go to the Olympics, which is really saying something considering it is her lifetime dream.

Payson and Becca head out, giving Mark and Kim a few minutes. They climb into the car and sit with the occasional 'ooo' and 'ahhh' from Becca as she flips through the latest issue of _All-Around Magazine_, one of the most known and reliable sources for everything gymnastics. When Kim finally joins them, starting the car, she asks, "Okay, Pay, what happened?"

She blinks and unsurely asks, "What happened with what?"

"Your friends. The barbeque. The tension."

"Yeah, I want to know!" Becca chimes in from the backseat.

"Official best friend business," Payson answers. When Kim's prying eyes don't let up, the gymnast sighs. "Just Lauren and Kaylie bickering. There's that _and_ Kaylie might have said something about Kelly and Faith and…I don't know. And I'm not too sure how, but you two tricked me into gossiping with you _again_."

"Tricked?" Kim wears a little, accomplished smile. "Tricked is a little strong, Payson."

"And girl talk isn't gossip if it's true," Becca adds in her bratty thirteen-year-old way.

"Precisely," Kim agrees with her youngest. They'd probably high-five if Kim wasn't driving. "Now, you were saying? What did Kaylie say about Kelly and Faith?"

"It isn't important," Payson insists. "We talked about it this morning. Kaylie didn't mean anything by it. She just doesn't like sharing her boyfriend with Faith, which doesn't even matter anymore because Faith is, you know, gone."

Payson hates acknowledging the fact, but it is fact.

"Which is understandable. Before we found out he was dating Kaylie, your father and I were convinced there was something more between Faith and Nicky, but that feels like such a long time ago. And, Pay, you can go easy on Kaylie. With her mom and dad always coming and going, you can see why she would have a tendency to hold on tight to what she has. I can't say I blame her if she saw the way Faith and Nicky are together. Faith Giancana can inspire a scary level of devotion in just about anyone."

"I guess…"

"Now, what's this about you lying to me about Kelly?" Kim asks. "Did you even invite her?"

"Trust me, mom. If you thought things were tense when it was just the four of us, adding Kelly to the equation would have been a disaster. A storm-quality disaster," Payson explains, as vague as it is. "Plus, I haven't talked to Kelly at all. Not since Worlds."

Becca has her face between the pages of her magazine, Kim keeps her eyes forward and Payson stares out the window at the roadside slush. The tension they had just been talking about fills the car at the mention of Kelly Parker. Payson prays her mom doesn't push because what they're all thinking, but reluctant to discuss is something Payson doesn't want to touch.

"You know gym moms and how they talk," Kim says. "Kelly Parker is a popular topic and it doesn't sound anything like the girl I know." Payson hears the talk too. It's hard not to. "I just worry sometimes. That's all."

Kim isn't alone. Payson worries too.

They turn into the Rock parking lot, bringing their conversation to an end. Sasha Belov's airstream is parked in its usual spot off to the side. With the Rock's head coach living in the parking lot, it's definitely harder to sneak in for their summer tradition, but not impossible.

Though the Rock has always been a great gym, known for producing great athletes, Sasha's presence and Austin's, along with Conrad and Payson's success at Worlds has catapulted the Rock's reputation, making it a household name in the gymnastics world. Sasha runs the gym like a well-oiled machine, pushing everyone beyond their best.

"Oh, look, Pay! Your banner's up!"

Payson feels the embarrassment swell with a mix of pride. The parents insisted on the banners. The first reads "Home of Olympic Gold Medalist Austin Tucker" the second, newer one spells: "Congratulations Worlds Gold Medalists Payson Keeler and Conrad Cooper!" Once Kim pulls into their reserved stall, Payson steps out for a better view.

"Not too humiliating, you think?"

Payson turns and finds her coach, Sasha Belov. It's a change to see him lose the gymnastics camp polo shirts in favor of fleece pullovers and windbreakers with the Rock logo. His blonde hair is short and his face is scruffy, but it's his eyes demand attention, intense, piercing and blue. Payson would like to say she's used to being around one of her idols on a daily basis, but still finds herself at a happy medium between starstruck and desensitized.

"It could be tackier, but thankfully it's not," Payson says.

"My sentiments exactly," Sasha agrees. "Seems I put the right woman in charge."

"I can only imagine what it'd look like if it was in your hands, Belov." Kim laughs with such girth, joining the two to stare up at the banners. "I'm glad they were able set it up so soon. That reminds me, if I'm not mistaken there are people waiting for you in your office."

"What people?" Payson asks.

"Nothing for you to worry about," Sasha says quickly. "Kim, a word? I'll see you inside, Payson."

Payson nods and watches her coach and her mom walk ahead, talking gym business. Ready to start her day, Payson grabs her gym bag when she notices her sister combing down her hair and checking her teeth.

"Becca, what are you doing?"

"I have to look nice."

"What's the point?" Payson asks. "You're just going to get all sweat while you're in there. We aren't practicing for a beauty pageant. It's gymnastics."

"I know, but Conrad's inside. I have to look somewhat presentable!"

The older of the two crosses her arms and shakes her head. "You know that's never going to happen, right? First, there's the obvious. _He's too old for you_. Dad would probably think he's too old for me."

"And what would dad think of you and Austin? Isn't he even older than Conrad?"

Payson stays quiet after that one, letting Becca do whatever primping she finds necessary. Becca knows, but luckily a Jackson or two keeps her lips sealed. When she's finally done, the sisters make their way into the gym that's a second home to them both. Payson tries not to pay too much attention to NGO suits in the glass office. The last time she was meant to show off she landed herself in a hospital bed.

Everyone else seems to be taking advantage of the fact that Sasha's distracted. He wouldn't be too pleased with how many issues of All-Around Magazine are floating around. Though Payson often sides with Sasha on every aspect of life, she can definitely understand the buzz about this issue. After all, one of their very own is featured.

Though the men's team barely scraped by in the teams category, bringing home bronze, the individual events were a whole other battle. Though Romania and China (both of whom beat the US in teams) put up a valiant effort, it was clear the real battle was between Conrad Cooper and a Denver Elite gymnast, Darrell "Flex" Jordan. Reaping the rewards of their talent, the two are featured on this month's cover.

Payson has yet to look through it with the way Becca hordes their only copy, drooling over the pictures of Conrad. Seriously, this little crush is getting a little out of hand.

Pushing the thought away, Payson goes into the locker room to change, thinking about how she doesn't have lasting bonds with the other girls. There's Violet who's good, but not as good as she thinks and Scarlet who's creeping with Violet's boyfriend and everyone knows except Violet and Sasha. Payson can work with them because Sasha makes them, but she always stays at a distance, not wanting any involvement when everything explodes. The emptiness of it just makes her miss Faith and Kelly and their odd camaraderie even more.

When she walks out, Payson goes to where Conrad is stretching on the mats. Austin is with him, holding an issue of All-Around Mag, with a smile that makes Payson unexplainably happy. The only more amusing sight is how red Conrad's lightly freckled face is turning.

In a really bad, stereotypical "Southern" accent, Austin reads, "I'm just a Texas grown boy happy for the opportunity to represent the good ol' US of A. As much as I love gold I'm thinkin' o' pawnin' ma medal to buy myself a new horse and maybe a couple chickens and a good ol' bag o' tobacco."

"Payson!" Conrad shouts. "Yer boy is an idiot. I didn't say any of that."

"I could have guessed."

"But it's what Con wanted to say. See, I know your head, bro." Austin flips more pages. "Hmm. They really played up the whole Denver Elite vs. the Rock home gym thing and you coming from Denver. I'm assuming you pulled the 'no comment' every time they asked you why you switched over?"

"Yup," Conrad confirms. "I made my manager proud."

"Speaking of managers, how is yours?" Payson asks. "I've been getting calls from different agencies wanting to represent me and now that my dad is back in town it's finally time to sit down and talk about it."

"She's professional enough, a real hardass, but the business demands it," Conrad explains. "Man is she pissed at me for breaking my contract. We've even considered getting an alarm system for the house just incase she decides to pop by unannounced…with a Jason mask and chainsaw. Good ol' Sheila. I wouldn't recommend her, but you didn't hear that from me."

"Wait," Payson says, "why are you breaking your contract?"

Before Conrad can answer, Austin interrupts him with a long whistle, still looking through the magazine. "Man, this Flex punk is a piece of work. Listen to this. 'Conrad Cooper? It must be dumb luck that he took gold and me silver. An eighth of a point was all it was. You can bet I'll have him the next time we meet. I've been told I'm a perfect human specimen and there's no argument there. When I want something there ain't no one who can stop me. If my competition doesn't fear me then they envy me. Flex Jordan: the god of gymnastics.' _Damn_."

"He's as cocky in person as he is on paper," Conrad says irritably. "Every damn day at DE I'd have to listen to Flex run his mouth, acting like no one is worthy of breathing _his _air. Well, everyone except maybe Kelly Parker."

"Flex and Kelly?" Payson asks. She feels a little hopeful at the idea that maybe Kelly has moved on even if moving on to Flex is without a doubt a step in the wrong direction.

"It's the whole social politics 'best' two gymnasts in the gym thing, King and Queen of DE," Conrad explains. "From talk I hear from my buddies over there, Kelly ain't interested, but as you can imagine, Flex is persistent. Boy threw a twenty minute tantrum when he found out he had to share the mag cover with me."

Payson snorts. "But he came in second."

"Yeah," Austin agrees. "He's lucky _you_ shared the cover with _him_."

Conrad shrugs his broad shoulders. "You know me. Didn't mean a thing, but management would've cut off my balls if I passed up PR like that."

"Have you heard anything else about Kelly? How she's doing?" Payson asks eagerly. Her tone draws Austin's attention and he lowers the magazine, obviously concerned over Payson's concern. Conrad doesn't talk about Denver Elite much, but seeing the opportunity, Payson has to try.

"With how she did at Worlds? Probably even more of a hot mess than before." Conrad sets his eyes on the blue mat beneath them and rubs his arm, smiling goofily. "But still with an emphasis on the hot."

Blinking, Payson asks, "What?"

"You didn't know?" Austin chuckles. "Connie has the biggest crush on KP."

"Really?"

"What? I ain't ashamed. She's an amazing gymnast and she's got edge. Not exactly my type, but did I mention she's hot?" Conrad laughs, his face back to red. "I don't know. She's always so moody. She could be happy if she wanted and I never got why she never was."

Moving over to Payson, Austin sits at her side. "So I'm gonna hook them up."

Payson immediately shakes her head. "That's a horrible idea."

Conrad looks straight at Austin and turns very serious. "I'm with Payson on this one."

Austin looks between the two, finding their refusal boring. "C'mon! Conrad, you've been moping over your ex for too long now. You should be reaping the benefits of being World Champ. And KP, we gave her enough time to lick her wounds. I bounced back after Worlds. It's her turn. Plus, she deserves better than some Jerk-Off who didn't appreciate her. Keeler, Connie digs her _edge_. You think twenty bucks is too little of a starting price for her digits?"

Payson gives him a look as if to ask if he's kidding. "To sell out our friend? Yes, Austin."

"I was kidding-ish about the last part." Austin playfully wraps around her shoulders.

"Playing matchmaker, Austin?" Payson asks, only the slightest bit amused.

"Call me cupid."

"As fun—and by fun I mean mortifying—as this conversation is, boss man at ten o'clock and he does not look happy," Conrad interrupts, spying over at the door to Sasha's glass office. "Time to get to work."

Austin bounces to his feet and reaches down to take Payson's hand to help her up. From there, the three go their separate ways to train. When Payson goes into gymnastics mode it's like nothing else matters, nothing else exists. She sees what needs to be done and in what way and then she executes. With her focus and determination, the day speeds by and before she even realizes, it's time to call it a day.

Before last summer, Payson never paid much attention to how dating is discouraged, especially between gymnasts. Now it only figures that when Austin Tucker comes to train at the Rock, Sasha issues the official No Dating Rule. Naturally, parents complained, not seeing how Sasha can waltz in and put restrictions on their kids' personal lives, but Sasha's point was that if they're serious about being gymnasts then they'll do whatever it takes. Payson agrees with Sasha, but then Austin smiles and she sort of, kind of _melts_.

At the end of the day, Payson walks out of the girls' locker room (finding the subtext underneath Violet and Scarlett's casual conversation too annoying) and Austin is across the way. He paces back and forth, kicking his feet and staring at the ceiling, holding his phone to his ear. He seems stressed—not a good look for him.

"Probably his sister complaining about his parents or his parents complaining about his sister. One or the other," Conrad says, reading Payson's concern and doing his best to sooth it. "Used to be once a week, but it seems like the calls are coming in more often lately."

"Does he ever talk about his family with you?"

"More like he does everything in his power to avoid talking about his family. I don't ask," Conrad says, though his expression says he wishes he did. "You?"

"Not at all."

"It's kinda scary, ain't it? How someone so open can be so closed." When Conrad sees her curiosity, he gives her a wide smile. "I just got all profound and shit on you, huh?" Payson laughs when Conrad does. "Anyways, we on for Wednesday?"

"Yup. Wouldn't miss it."

"Miss what?" Becca asks, walking over to the two top gymnasts at the Rock.

"Hey, you!" Conrad calls out to her and it sends Becca straight into a lovesick state. Payson prays she doesn't look that way when she's with Austin. "Your big sis and I were just talking about Wednesday. You're coming with us, right?"

"Yes! Nothing could stop me," Becca says, bouncing on her heels. "This Wednesday and next Wednesday and the Wednesday after that!"

"I like your enthusiasm, trooper." Conrad winks at her, just encouraging her little crush. He holds out his hand for a high-five and Becca claps her palm against his. Payson rolls her eyes, debating whether she should put an end to this or ignore it.

"Um, Conrad, would you sign my magazine?"

Payson actually laughs aloud much to Becca's annoyance.

"Sure thing," Conrad says. "Believe it or not, you're the first and only one to ask."

Becca is overjoyed. Payson hasn't seen her little sister this happy since she got the okay to sit at the adult table during family holidays. All Becca sees is Conrad as he takes the magazine and the Sharpie, crawling his name across the cover, two big C's and scribbles in between.

"Great," Payson says, playing her part as the older, annoyed sister. "Good job, Coop. Now she's probably going to sleep with it on her pillow. The least you could have done is let me look through it earlier. Now that Conrad signed it, I'm guessing I won't even get a peek at it."

"Payson!"

Conrad laughs at the sisterly exchange. "I could bring a copy for you tomorrow. We got about a million of 'em at the lake house and I'm tired of Austin using 'em to mock me. Okay. I'm gonna grab Aus and head home. See yah, girls."

Waving, Conrad goes to find Austin who isn't where he was a minute ago. Payson reminds herself to call Austin tonight to see what's up. The Keeler sisters make their way to their mom's car and Payson teases Becca the entire way. When they get there, two large baskets of assorted fruits and goodies sit on the hood, wrapped in plastic and ribbons.

"Um, Pay, do you see gift baskets on the hood of mom's car?"

"Strangely, I do," Payson says. "It has to be a mistake or something, right?"

When her need to know gets the best of her, Payson goes to investigate and finds a card attached. It reads:

_Looking forward to finally meeting the World Champion! -Sheila Baboyon_

_..._

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Note<strong>: So Make It or Break It got renewed for a season 3. We were both pretty surprised until we found out it was only for eight episodes, which only makes sense. As LCTD put it, the whole thing screams, "Here's a mop. Now, clean up your mess." Stick around for the next chapter. Everyone's favorite Denver Death Eater is in it and, boy, Conrad was not lying when he said she's a hot mess…

**Review**.

#WeFaB #LLD2 #LLDforever


	4. Hope is just a Stranger

**Warning: **Hold on to your hearts, lovers. Someone's must break.

* * *

><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between **

…

It's a little after midnight, but Payson can't sleep and so she walks through the moves of her floor routine in her bedroom. There isn't enough space to actually perform, but with eyes shut, arms cutting through the air, in her head she's going all out. A loud knock on the door breaks her focus and the mat and the music in her mind fade away.

"Payson, are you still awake?" Kim asks through the door.

"Yeah, mom," Payson calls back. "Come in."

The door slowly opens, inch by inch, and Kim enters, ready for bed, reading glasses on, wearing a robe. The nearby lamp sheds light on the worry lines and the way her lips tense.

"There's a girl outside," Kim whispers. Payson expresses her confusion without saying a word. "Look for yourself if you don't believe me."

Kim rushes to the window and parts the blinds just enough to see through. Sometimes her mom can be ridiculous. Her dad is probably asleep and Becca takes after him so she's in dreamland, hugging her Conrad Cooper autographed magazine. By default, Payson is the one who gets to entertain her mom's quirks.

It's dark, but Payson sees her mother's car in the driveway and a figure lingering at the grill, swaying and heaving what looks like a bottle to her lips. When she thinks she recognizes the girl, Payson feels the nausea curdling deep in her gut. No. Please no.

As if reading her fears, Kim asks, "Do you recognize her?"

No. The girl inspecting a nearby garden gnome like it's going to magically start a conversation with her cannot be Kelly Parker.

"It's freezing out," Kim says. "It'll be a disaster if she passes out in the driveway."

_At least the alcohol will keep her warm_, Payson thinks. Swallowing the sigh in her throat, Payson heads for the door. This feels too much like Texas except there's no Austin to help and it's below freezing out. "Go to bed, mom. I'll talk to her."

"Hang on, Pay," Kim says in her naturally maternal voice. "There's a strange drunk girl in front of our house. What do you mean you'll talk to her? You know that girl?"

Sometimes Payson really wishes she didn't, but she does.

"Just trust me," Payson says. And because Kim really does, she reminds Payson to grab a sweater before letting her go.

It's common knowledge in the gymnastics community that Kelly Parker has been on a downward spiral since Worlds. Payson and Kelly were roommates in Rio. Kelly would stay out all night, leaving Payson to cover for her and in the mornings, Austin and Faith (who met them in Rio for "moral support") would show up at the door with a passed out Kelly thrown over Austin's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Kelly never explained herself. Payson never asked.

There are rumors about Kelly showing up to a meet with Dallas, one of the highest ranked clubs in the nation, drunk. She could barely stand and Marty, confused and embarrassed, pulled her from the competition. Kelly was lucky to clinch bronze due to a tiebreaker and the other girl cried because she (and everyone) felt she deserved it more than Kelly, whose eyes were vacant the entire time in Rio.

Pulling her coat tight around her, Payson watches Kelly face the sky, arms out, giggling as she spins in circles, a shadow dancing in the dark. Her breath comes out in streaks, visible for only seconds at a time. When Kelly's legs cross and tangle beneath her, Payson runs over, as if to catch her, but isn't quick enough, left to watch Kelly fall back against the front of Kim's car, laughing at, to and with herself.

"Keeler!" Kelly shouts. "I knew this was your house! My memory _so_ rocks!"

Her voice is loud and keyed up, but all her words run into each other like the train wreck she is. Payson never thought she'd miss Kelly Parker's carefully chosen, bitchy snaps. This Kelly Parker, filled with liquor and hollow laughs, goes straight in for a bear hug that Payson isn't ready for. The smell of vodka surrounds them like a slow, crawling fog. It attacks Payson's senses and makes her cringe.

"Kelly, what are you doing here?"

"Drink with me!" she orders. "Flex is an ass, don't even wanna deal with that and Joey's being a lil' bitch, sayin' he has _training_ tomorrow. So do I, but you don't see me wooseing out! _So_ glad I wouldn't let him make out with me. SO GLAD! Payson!"

Payson hushes her. "What made you think that I'd want to do that?"

"Because we're friends," Kelly says matter-of-factly. "Duh."

Grinding her feet into the slush-covered driveway, Payson feels the sympathy well up inside. Drunk or not, Kelly considers them friends and Payson feels the same. There is no way she'd leave a friend out in the cold, especially in this condition. "Kelly, did you drive?"

"No, Keeler, Santa Claus dropped me off on his way back to the North Pole," Kelly says sarcastically. Her gloved fingers cling to the flask in her fist and some of the liquid inside swishes with her exaggerated hand motions. "What? Are you questioning my driving skillzzz?"

"No. I'm questioning your sobriety." Payson says it like an angry parent and Kelly plays the role of the oblivious child. "Look, you can come inside, but only if you're quiet. Can you do that for me?" Kelly nods enthusiastically and Payson already knows they're doomed. "Give me your keys."

"Why?"

"Because you're so drunk you don't even see how stupid that question is," Payson explains, holding out her palm. "Keys."

"Wow, Commander Keeler. I bet Austin gets all hot, you taking that tone with him." Kelly hands them over and Payson curls her fingers around the plastic, severed Barbie head for a keychain. Eyes back on her dark house, Payson grabs Kelly's arm and her level of intoxication is clear when Kelly doesn't forcefully pull away or make a big fuss like she would if in her right mind. They go inside and a welcomed wave of heat greets them.

"Remember. Quiet," Payson whispers. She shrugs off her thick coat and hangs it neatly on the rack. Kelly tears hers off and lets it fall to the ground, assessing her surroundings.

"Exactly how I remember." Kelly walks to the fireplace that still has dying embers in it. Her gloved fingers trail along the mantel, around the little trinkets and framed photos.

"I didn't realize you memorized what my house looks like." Payson grabs Kelly's coat and drapes it over the back of the recliner.

"Not in a stalker way. Don't think you're so special," Kelly snaps. Payson flinches as the darkness creeps up around Kelly much like it did on those nights at camp when Kelly grew sick of pretending she wasn't breaking. "It's warm here. Not just temp-wise, but you feel something," Kelly continues. "You are the American Dream, aren't you?"

Worried and not knowing how to handle this, Payson outright asks, "Kelly, are you okay?"

"Fine. Imma not broken anymore," Kelly says with such sweet false conviction. She sits on the couch when she can't stand any longer and Payson sits with her. "That even sounds like b.s. to me."

"What happened?"

"I don't know." Kelly sighs. "Faith left. And Nicky…and my parents…forget it. Forget I said anything. This is just who I am now."

Payson holds back a snort, knowing how short a fuse Kelly has. The last thing they need is to cause a scene and wake up the whole house. "Well, you better have a nice, long talk with yourself because this isn't good. Your gymnastics is suffering because of the 'new you.'"

"I just don't have it down yet. I will, though. I have to." Kelly takes another gulp, not even hindered by the taste. "We thrive on pain. When we're happy we don't do extraordi-aweseome things. Like art. I'm sure van Gogh was in pain when he painted. I dunno if he was heartbroken or just plain depressed, but I guarantee he wasn't happy. Bottom line: brilliant doesn't come from happy. It comes from pain and I'm freaking there…"

Payson leans forward and stares off. After some pondering, she responds, "Kelly, van Gogh also walked out into a field and fired a revolver at his own chest."

There's no reply. If Payson were Kelly, she wouldn't know how to respond either.

Closing her eyes, Payson sighs. "Look, I know neither of us tried to keep in touch, you ended up here. Like you said, we're friends and as your friend I'm not saying you would shoot yourself, but what you're doing isn't healthy. Not to mention it's stupid and scary and you need to stop."

Holding her breath, Payson waits for the bitch fest, but it doesn't come. Turning to face her, Payson finds Kelly passed out. Her eyes are closed, head back, mouth open. Her fingers loosen around the flask, knees pulled to her chest and her head on the arm of the couch. Of course when Payson musters the nerve to make that speech, Kelly Parker isn't listening.

Sighing, Payson plucks the metal flask from Kelly's hand and screws the cap back on. She then stuffs it into the pocket of Kelly's coat. With the car keys dangling from her fingers, Payson goes to the coat closet to get a quilt, drapes it over Kelly and turns off the lamp. As expects, once Payson gets to the top of the stairs, Kim is waiting.

"Pay, you could have told me it was Kelly. I guess my eyes aren't what they used to be. She looked so different," Kim says. "I trusted you. Now it's your turn. Start explaining. First lying to me about inviting Kelly to the barbeque and now this?"

"It isn't easy to explain and we both need to be up early tomorrow," Payson says. She hates how her mom is blocking the entire walkway like a goalkeeper. Payson has no escape.

"Well then, the CliffsNotes version will do," she says. "I'm waiting, Payson."

"Kelly is going through a rough time," Payson says simply. "She needed someone to…she just needed someone and she came here."

"Do her parents know where she is? They must be worried sick."

"I don't know," Payson says honestly. Though Kelly never talks about her parents and judging by the state of the Parker mansion, Payson can make an educated guess. "From what I know, they aren't like you and dad. I wouldn't be surprised if they don't even know she's out."

Kim's lips turn down in a frown. "Does she have anyone else? An aunt or grandparents?"

"I don't know. She has Faith, but I'm assuming she's still out of the country."

"I worry about that one too. I hope she's eating right out there," Kim murmurs thoughtfully.

"And then there's Nixon…"

"He knows Kelly?"

"They were best friends…up until he started dating Kaylie and…kept it from Kelly."

Kim looks like she's trying to sort things out for herself, but doesn't have enough pieces to form a coherent picture. "I take back what I said earlier. I want to hear everything."

"_Mom_."

"Don't tell me Kelly had feelings for him."

Payson initial assumes her mom just wants to hear the gossip like their lives really have become a melodramatic teenage soap opera, but she is a little curious as to how Kim drew that conclusion. Slowly, Payson asks, "What makes you say that?"

"The Kelly Parker I know is strong, self-sufficient, driven," Kim says. "The only reason a girl would go from prepping for the Olympics to becoming the most gossiped about gymnast in Colorado, it has to be about a boy."

So maybe Kim can piece enough together all on her own.

"Kelly refuses to talk about it, but even_ I_ could tell there was more going on and I'm _me_," Payson says. "She broke down when she found out about him dating Kaylie, but that was last summer. I don't understand why she's still doing this to herself."

"Whoa, slow down there, Pay," Kim says, and it surprises Payson. "A broken heart is no walk in the park. Sometimes, depending on the person and the situation, it takes longer to heal than broken bones. Sometimes it never completely heals."

"I can't imagine…"

"One day you'll care so much about someone that just the idea of losing them could drive you to think some crazy things and actually losing them might drive you to _do_ some crazy things."

"Sure, but not till after the Olympics."

"Of course." Kim laughs and lifts the bottle of aspirin in her hand. "Kelly is going to need these in the morning and lots of water. I'll put it on the end table for when she wakes up. You get to bed. Early day tomorrow."

"Thanks," Payson says. "Mom, what am I supposed to do? How do I help her?"

"I don't know what to tell you. Most times we like to think that we can fix things and change people, but the truth is that we can only be held accountable for ourselves. This is something Kelly needs to figure out and you can be a good friend and try to help her through it, but ultimately as out of control as she seems, Kelly is the only one who can change it."

Payson would much rather a detailed step-by-step guide, but just nods and says goodnight. Once Kim goes downstairs, Payson takes a few careful steps down and peeks into the living room. After setting down the water and aspirin, Kim doesn't hesitate to fix the quilt over Kelly, tucking the sides beneath her. Payson goes back to her room before Kim reaches the foot of the stairs, closes her door and climbs into bed.

The things Kim does out of her pure instinct to nurture has always amazed Payson. After turning out the light and settling down in bed, Payson reaches over for her phone on the nightstand. She's never actually called Nicky. Whenever the battery on Kaylie's cell dies, she'll steal her boyfriend's and use it to text her friends when they're planning something. That's the only reason she even has his number and now it's about to come in handy.

There's hesitation as Payson stops on Nicky's name in her contacts. Her ever-present vigilance prevails over her impulse and she spares a moment to think about Kaylie. Payson knows Kaylie still has leftover wounds from Carter and no matter how good (albeit clueless) of a boyfriend Nicky is, cheating is always going to be a possibility in Kaylie's mind. Every other girl freaks out over the idea of her boyfriend cheating on her with a random skank while Kaylie has to worry about him cheating on her with Kelly Parker, his once best friend.

Payson knows this text is asking to throw their seemingly stable lives into chaos yet again, but to turn the other cheek while Kelly continues to fall is unacceptable. If anyone can reach Kelly and get her out of this rut, it's Nicky. This is an emergency. Kaylie will understand. Slowly, Payson types out:

_Kelly needs her best friend. She needs you._

Payson hits "send" and it's done. As Payson turns over, ready to try and sleep, her phone vibrates. She didn't expect him to text her back so soon, especially this late at night.

Nicky replies: _She doesn't want me. Not anymore._

Payson feels for this guy, she really does. But if he has ever cared about Kelly then he needs to at least try. Payson texts back:

_I didn't say she wants you or your help. I said she needs you. _

He doesn't text her back for a while after that and Payson keeps looking at the clock. She's awake later than usual and that means she's going to be exhausted in the morning and Sasha isn't going to be happy. Right as she's about to drift asleep, her phone finally buzzes.

_Ok_.

The boy isn't very articulate via text, but Payson feels hopeful. It's a start.

In the morning, Payson sees the ring of keys with the beheaded Barbie next to her phone and knows last night actually happened. She's quick to get dressed and go downstairs. Like every morning she hears pots and pans clacking in the kitchen, where her mom is busy at the stove while Becca and Kelly sit at the kitchen table, engaged in conversation.

"…You just need to go for it," a tired Kelly Parker insists. She looks like crap, smeared makeup and knots in her hair. "You know you can do it on the tramp and in the pit, then you can definitely do it on floor. Just trust yourself, throw it. Then you'll be able to feel what you did right or wrong for the next time."

Becca nods. "Alright. I will."

"And if she breaks something you're picking up the medical bill." Payson barges in.

"Payson," Kim says warningly.

"I'd gladly take full responsibility, but it isn't happening," Kelly says. "Payson's just scared. Becks, when you break all of Payson's records _and_ at a younger age, you reserve all rights to gloat and rub it in."

Becca nods surely. "You bet."

"Okay, girls, eat your breakfast," Kim says. Kelly grimaces at the sight and the smell, wrapping her hands around her mug of tea and forcing herself to take small sips. "Your father left early for a job interview. Kelly, Mr. K says hi."

Kelly shrinks lower in her seat, too tired to make an effort to change her expression. Saving her from trying to respond, Payson hands Kelly's keys to her. "So how's your head?"

"Pounding," Kelly answers. "Mostly from feeling like a complete idiot."

"It isn't anything to be proud of, Kelly, but it's done. No sense in dwelling," Kim assures her. Kelly doesn't look too sure and as she passes behind her, Kim gently touches Kelly's shoulder. "I will say that next time you show up unannounced I'd rather you do it sober, but I am glad you're safe. Lord knows you could have chosen worse places to end up last night."

"Thank you for everything, Mrs. K," Kelly says sincerely. Payson has never seen Kelly look at someone the way she looks at Kim. With admiration and respect. Clearly suppressing how badly she wants to crawl into a dark, warm place and die, Kelly starts to stand. "I should probably go. I'm sure you all have a busy day."

"Hold it right there," Kim calls out. Sparing a moment to look to her daughters, Kim says, "Payson, Becca, finish up breakfast, get your things together and meet me in the driveway. I'm going to walk Kelly to her car and we're going to have a little chat."

Becca warns Kelly. "When she says 'little chat' she usually means long-winded lecture."

"And probably an anecdote from 'back in the day' to drive the message home," Payson adds.

"I deserve it so have at it, Mrs. K." Kelly sighs. "See you around, Keelers."

Kelly goes to the door, but pauses when she sees their corkboard of memos. She rips Sheila Baboyon's business card right off and walks back to the table, holding it out for Payson to see.

"Where did you get this?"

"Gift baskets on the hood of our car at the Rock," Payson explains. "Why? Do you know her?"

Maybe it's the hangover, her A-game momentarily stunted, but Kelly actually visibly hesitates before she says, "Payson, as your friend and someone who's dealt with this woman before, believe me when I tell you you're better off forgetting her. Gift baskets won't make up for the world of misery she brings with her. Go with a different manager. Burn this. Trust me, okay?"

Payson crushes the business card in her palm and shoots it into the trash. Kelly nods before walking to the door with Kim. Payson doesn't question Kelly's judgment when it comes to gymnastics. Especially since Kelly just called them friends and did so sober.

…

Tutor Girl. It isn't the worst nickname Emily has ever had.

She started tutoring when Marcus asked her to help Shane Oman with an English assignment. With the rumors that Shane can't read and skated through school on good looks and athletic ability, the entire class was shocked when he actually read the material and gave a decent presentation. A witness to a job well done, Marcus referred her to the tutoring center.

Being a high school tutor is voluntary as in Emily doesn't make money for help. Some schools treat tutoring like a paying job, but not Taft. It may be home to some of the richest kids in CO, but they don't have the budget to. The only reason Emily sticks with it is because it looks good on résumés and applications.

The tutoring center isn't long-term. If a student needs help with a particular assignment, they make an appointment and tutors are appointed. They can request a specific tutor, which is what Ike normally does. Emily has made him a personal project. She gives him the type of tutoring that deserves a paycheck. Though sometimes Emily thinks she takes it more seriously than Ike, other times he surprises her.

That morning, when Emily goes to meet him, Ike is already there and isn't alone. Mr. Red Beanie is with him. They're both from Laguna evident by the way they don't have unlimited closet options like characters on TV. Ike is in his classic green army jacket and Mr. Red Beanie in his doorman jacket. She probably shouldn't be surprised that they know each other.

"Hi," Emily says, finally making her presence known.

"Hey, Teach," Ike says. "Look. I'm on time!"

"For once," Emily says, drawing closer with her textbooks held tight against her chest. Tentatively, she asks, "What are you up to?"

Mr. Red Beanie shoves his sleeves back, showing off his leather bound wrists and the pen marks that stain his skin. He stands from his chair and shoves his hands into his pockets. Holding her stare, he walks in Emily's direction, dragging his feet. Physique-wise, he doesn't seem like much, but there's something so intimidating about his eyes. When there's less than an arm's length between them, Mr. Red Beanie walks right past her.

"Aw, Tutor Girl, I think he likes you."

Thoughts shattered, Emily turns to Ike who's sitting at the library table with his combat boots propped up on the edge. Ike laughs, turning his attention to the cash under his palm, wrapped up in a rubber band. He fans the bills, mostly fives and ones, across the table, doing basic addition in his head.

"What do you think you're doing?" Emily pushes Ike's feet off the table and sits down.

"Counting," Ike answers, even though it's pretty obvious.

"And you have friends who just randomly give you money like this?"

Sliding all the cash back into a neat little pile, Ike folds them over and wraps the rubber band around it. "Nothing for you to worry about."

The poignant scent of weed is all over Ike and his tattered backpack. He just completed a drug trade in the library. Their tutor spot is forever tainted.

"So who is that guy?"

"A friend," Ike says. "Yes, I have friends other than you and Lauren."

"It's more of an outreach program than a friendship, don't you think?" Emily says in her sweet voice. Shoving his money safely into the inside pocket of his backpack, Ike gives a fake laugh. "I think your friend is my neighbor. What's his name?"

"Roger C. Field, he goes by Rodge, cool dude. We hang, but he doesn't have a car or a license so I always have to drive into the Meadows to pick him up and I hate that place." Ike raises his brows. "You live there too? Yikes."

"I know, right," Emily murmurs embarrassedly. "As if living in Laguna alone isn't bad enough."

"Meadows is freaky! You know that big hole in the ground filled with green water, tires and decomposed body parts? It might have been a pool in a past life? Yeah, Rodge and I were hanging out back there and some random dude pulled a knife on me."

Emily's eyes widen. "What happened?"

"The guy was clearly on something, major base crazies, and desperate. We did a trade. An eighth and he wouldn't kill me," Ike explains. His gaze turns glassy as he rubs his fingertips alone his neckline, upset by the memory.

"Drugs saved your life," Emily whispers.

Ike nods. "Every day's a dog fight. I know I may not look like much, but I'm scrappy and resourceful. I can hang. What I lack is smarts, which is what you and Rodge have. Being scrappy and resourceful keeps me alive, but being smart gets you out."

"Don't count yourself out just yet," Emily says, "now let's see those practice questions."

Ike laughs nervously. "Funny thing…"

Emily sighs loudly. "You didn't do the practice questions, did you?"

"It's not like I didn't _want_ to do them or didn't think about doing them, but OPERATION SOUL SKATER, Emily!" Ike shouts. Holding up his hands, Emily sees how they're stained with dirt, black beneath his fingernails. "I had to put some last minute additions and so I didn't have a chance to do the questions…"

"Ike, I don't want to hear your excuses," Emily says sharply. "Just…hurry. Do them now."

"Yes, ma'am."

Emily's itching to look over Ike's shoulder and watch him do every problem, but she's learned he doesn't work well that way. She needs to give him space, let him do his thing and go through it with him once he's done.

"Hello, commoners!" Lauren says in a strangely cheery voice. When he sees her, Ike immediately slams his pencil down, forgetting his practice problems entirely. "Your queen has come to save you all from death by boredom!"

"LoTan!"

"No." Emily gives him a stern look. "Back to work." Ike sulks as Emily turns to her blonde best friend. "Lo, you know that this is school and it's 6:30 in the morning, right?"

"As you know, today is the big day. Can you blame me for being a little excited?" she asks. "Plus, I was going to work on my English project here while you try to teach Ike things, but I'm thinking a Starbucks run instead." Lauren points at Emily. "Grande white mocha." She then turns to Ike, "And…what do you get again?"

"Whole milk venti hot chocolate, no whip, no foam and a touch of caramel sauce." Ike makes ordering at Starbucks sound like an art form.

"Yeah," the blonde slowly says, "you'll drink whatever I get for you and like it."

Ike grins. "That works too."

"Dude, math!" Emily taps a finger against his forgotten worksheets. Ike lowers his head and picks up his pencil, going back to work. Emily relaxes. "Thanks Lo. I'll pay you back later."

"It's on me," Lauren assures her. "Like Ike ever pays me back for Starbucks runs. It's cool. Just watch my books."

"Did you bring your laptop to school?"

"Well, I have to do _something_ in study hall and I prefer online shopping." Lauren winks. The scary thing is she isn't joking. The cute leather sandals on her feet were bought online when she should have been studying for midterms. "I'll be back. Keep crackin' that whip, Em."

"Oh, she will." Ike is seconds away from stabbing himself with his pencil, hanging his head over his sheets of nonsensical equations.

Once Lauren leaves, Emily brings out Lauren's laptop in a zebra-print hard case. She knows Lauren's password and couldn't be more proud and relieved that Lauren finally deleted all traces of Carter Anderson out of it. That's one true sign of moving on.

Emily brings up Google and enters Damon's name in the search engine. She sits there for some time, debating if she really wants to know or not. Eventually she goes with the former and mercilessly searches through the latest news and gossips sites. All she finds is disappointment. Perez is just as in the dark as she is.

A little sound distracts both Emily and even Ike. She sees a familiar name inviting her chat.

**TrueBlonde**: EMILY KMETKO!

**TrueBlonde**: I was signing a bunch of papers and things and noticed that my initials are JB. Jonas Brothers! Justin Biebs! Jacob Black!

Oh, Jody Bishop. Emily can almost hear the blonde's naturally bubbly yet sophisticatedly drawling voice in her head. Fingers poised on the keys, Emily types a reply.

**Me**: Jack Black?

**TrueBlonde**: Sexiest fat dude alive? So my favorite. :P

**Me**: Glad I could help, Miss President. :)

**TrueBlonde**: Student Body President, thank you very much.

**Me**: Oh, I'm sorry, Miss STUDENT BODY President.

**TrueBlonde**: Better. I'm probably the only person left on earth that appreciates all caps. ;)

They talk online like this all the time and if they can't hang out face-to-face it's nice that they can update each other through Google Chat. Jody is waiting to hear from Stanford or Berkley, looking to move north, but also applied to UCLA, the school she always saw herself going to ever since her first Bruins game, and UC Irvine, but only as a backup. She's going to travel for the summer. Jody seems to have everything figured out and Emily couldn't be happier for her.

After exchange thoughts on the latest episodes of their favorite shows, Emily asks what she always tells herself not to ask, but ends up asking anyways.

**Me**: So Jo…

Enter.

**Me**: Any news about Damon?

She hits enter again and waits, nervous.

They've talked about Damon before. Unlike Lauren or Payson, Jody doesn't immediately scold her for still thinking about him and doesn't tell her to move on. Jody understands because she knows Damon and what he's really like. She also knows what a sudden breakup feels like. Jody understands and she's just as worried about Damon as Emily is.

**TrueBlonde**: Sorry, Em. I haven't heard anything. Razor doesn't have a clue either.

Emily's heart sinks, but she knows it was a longshot anyways.

**TrueBlonde**: Don't worry about it. Damon knows how to take care of himself. I'll bet he's on some deserted island, working on whatever he's working on, chasing muses. The ushe.

Emily remembers when she used to be his muse.

**Me**: I guess.

**Me**: So does this mean Razor and you are on speaking terms again?

**TrueBlonde**: He's hard to ignore if you haven't noticed.

Emily always knew it was just a matter of time before Jody and Razor gravitated back to one another. They're one of those couples that take the on-again, off-again relationship status to a whole other literal level.

**TrueBlonde**: Gotta jet, Em. Prez duties call. Have a good day, girl. ;)

**Me**: You too, JB.

Sometimes Emily lets this fantasy creep up on her, where she forgets school and her home situation and goes back to Newport to joins forces with Razor and Jody and find Damon. It's called a fantasy because it won't ever come true. Emily blames all the Nancy Drew and Boxcar Children she read as a child.

"Alright," Ike says. "Done."

After signing out, Emily closes the laptop and pushes it aside. Ike slides his worksheets to her and Emily looks them over.

"Wrong…wrong…and wrong," Emily says. "You did get this right, though." Moving her chair closer to him, Emily points out his mistakes. "Right here you need to remember that zero divided by any real number except zero is zero. Dividing by zero is impossible so these are undefined and when you divide fractions, the quotient of two fractions is the first fraction multiplied by the reciprocal of the second fraction."

"Quotient?"

"Yeah, quotient," Emily says. "The result of division, the answer, the, um, how many times one quantity is contained in another. Next I should give you a test on algebraic terms."

"No thank you. Quotient. Got it."

Emily looks back to the worksheets. "The rest of looks great."

"Thanks," Ike says, tucking his pencil behind his ear. "You know, I really meant what I said. I'd bet a million dollars that you're the one who'll get out of here."

As weird as Ike can be and as weird as it is that he's hanging out with Lauren, Emily thinks he's okay. She smiles and shyly thanks him for the compliment.

"I'm back and with your orders or at least close to what you ordered," Lauren says. Despite the no eating or drinking signs posted all around the library, Lauren still walks over with a tray and three cups. "Are my favorite nerds ready for a break?"

"Sure," Emily relents, "but I have another set of practice problems for you and I want the ones you got wrong corrected by tomorrow."

"You drive a tight bargain, Miss Kmetko, but you got it," Ike says. "Now where's my hot chocolate?"

"Here," Lauren hands it over to him, "and a white mocha for my Kemmy-Ko."

Emily smiles and takes her coffee. Lauren sits beside her and Emily notices the phone number scrawled onto the cup along with "Josh" and a winking face. Emily leans forward and taps the little note, looking to Lauren expectantly. "Cute," Emily says.

"Too bad he wasn't," Lauren says with a cruel laugh. Ike almost snorts hot chocolate, erupting in hacking coughs and Emily shakes her head, leaning back in her seat and sipping her coffee.

The three hang out for a while longer and Lauren shows them her project she half-assed at best, written in a cute, curly font rather than the standard Times New Roman. The first warning bell rings and they head for homeroom. Lauren and Ike are in the same one and Emily's is two doors down so they walk together.

"Bye, Em," Lauren says. "See you first period."

"Economics in the morning. I can't contain my excitement," Emily says dully. She may be decent with numbers, but Economics is far from her favorite subject; at least she has Lauren there to suffer through it with her. Lauren waves and Ike nods before they continue on their way and Emily goes into English class.

Mr. Marcus Simon (who insists the kids call him by his first name), lover of all things Charles Dickens, is easily the youngest teacher at Taft, along with being the coolest. If Taft were the setting of a Lifetime movie, Marcus would be the teacher you'd expect to be having an illicit romance with at least three of the female students or maybe even a male student. In reality, Marcus is just really passionate about literature and it shows.

"Emily Kmetko, present and on time as always," Marcus says, adding a little check next to her name on his class attendance list. Seeing Marcus, his dark-hair neatly styled, wearing a vintage vest, Emily unzips her backpack and pulls out a book. "You finished it? Already?"

"Bookworm." Emily raises her hand. "Guilty."

"Guilty as well," Marcus says, holding up his hand, imitating Emily. "What did you think?"

"I have no clue why it's your favorite book."

Marcus laughs as if he'd been expecting it. "_Great Expectations_ is timeless. It's considered by some to be Dickens' greatest work. You didn't think his description was haunting? The dry humor? And those characters? Orphan Pip, Emily Kmetko."

"I mean, it had its moments, for sure, but sometimes it felt, well, boring and I had to keep reminding myself what the actual plot was and the fact that there actually was a plot..." When Emily sees the look on Marcus' face, she winces. "Sorry."

"No. Rule number one of Book Club is to never talk about Book Club."

Emily laughs. "You mean _Fight Club_?"

"Also a fantastic book, by the way," Marcus says. "No, rule one: _always_ talk about books. Rule two is never apologize for liking or disliking a book. Your opinion is your opinion even if it's dissing your favorite teacher's favorite book."

"I'll keep that in mind," Emily says. "Thanks again for book loan."

"Any time. I'd rather you actually come to Book Club meetings so you can discuss some of this with the group, but I know you tutor at lunch. Well, as always, you're welcomed to join us and I am forever your human library."

Emily turns away and starts walking to the back of the classroom.

"Shameless, much?" Alison asks. "I spy someone hot for teacher."

Emily ignores her. Knowing Lauren and Ike and "Operation Soul Skater" Alison will get what she deserves soon enough. The second bell rings and everyone goes quiet for the morning announcements.

"It looks like everyone's here," Marcus says aloud, addressing the entire class. "Except…Roger?" He looks up from his roaster and out at the rows of mostly occupied desks. "No Roger? Can't say I'm surprised…oh, well. Looks like the usual gang is here."

Emily thinks back to the last couple of months, now that the name clicks in her head. Marcus calls out "Roger Fields" every morning without fail. It's obvious Mr. Red Beanie doesn't care to show up to homeroom, but Marcus still asks and evidentially still has hope. Emily can't decide whether that speaks more about Marcus as a person or this Rodge guy.

…

At lunch the dividing line between Royal and Reject is glaringly obvious.

Kaylie eats lunch with Maeve. They're more than halfway through the school year and Emily and Lauren have never complained so Kaylie figures they're cool with it. It isn't like Kaylie needs their permission. It shouldn't be as big a deal as people make it. At Taft, where you sit in the cafeteria defines your status. The Royals have their designated area, the Rejects theirs (near the garbage) and everyone else is just gray area between.

In truth, lunch is more about socialization than nutrition. The cafeteria food is disgusting. Most of the time the daily special is mush, drowning in oil, with chunks of mystery meat. The "vegetables" are straight from the can and the French fries are soggy, soaked with grease. Kaylie stopped trying to buy lunch the first week of freshman year.

"Maeve, you have to eat something," Max urges her.

"My blood sugar dipped a bit between classes and so I had a little something earlier. I'm fine now. You go ahead, sweetie." Though Max is staring at Maeve like he doesn't believe a word of it, she pays him no attention, tapping her finger against the screen of her iPhone.

"Okay," Max says. "More for me." He dives his fork through the mush that's supposedly to be beef stew. "Yum. Maeve, you don't know what you're missing."

Kaylie laughs. "Max, I doubt you even know what you're eating."

Maeve joins in, glancing between her friend to her left and her boyfriend across from her. "Sorry, Maxi, point for Kaylie-cakes."

Max pretends to be upset and Maeve winks at him. Leaving Maeve and Max to eyefuck, Kaylie stares down at her phone in her lap beneath the table, texting Nicky, of course.

"So Shane is a fuck up," Max says. "He got busted by his parents and they are _pissed_, two poorly hidden pipes away from military school. We don't have a place for the party anymore."

In an attempt to make this year memorable, the senior Royals have taken it upon themselves to hold a party every weekend until the end of the year, counting down to graduation. No house means no place to party, a definitely a wrench in the well-oiled Royal machine.

"Max!" Maeve hisses, slamming her palms against the table. "What do we say? If you want a pet you need to keep a leash on him. Us losing a place to party, definitely off the leash."

"Max, didn't you say your mom's out of town?" Kaylie asks.

"No way. If my grandpa found out I threw a party at the apartment he pays for, forget graduating, I'd have to run away to Canada. Why don't we just have it at the creek?"

Maeve groans again. "Because last time I stepped in an anthill and looked like I had leprosy. I'm so done with that place. Plus, I heard Ephram and Annie were out there, getting friendly in his car, and a cop pulled up. See, they were just having underage sex. Can you imagine if a cop pulled up to a creek party with half a trunk of kegs?"

"Then we pay 'em off," Shane Oman says, filling the space at Max's side. Though Shane isn't the greatest at math, he knows the numbers game and how to play it. When Lauren's popularity plummeted, Shane went where the numbers went, now doing Maeve's biddings.

"You." Maeve points at Shane. "Fix this."

"What do you think I've been doing all morning? I've been calling everyone I can think of. So far I've got a guy with a friend who has an empty house, but it's in Denver."

"I don't like that." Max says. "It's too far. We don't want anyone stupidly trying to drive back to Boulder from there."

Shane appears annoyed. "Dude, that's lame."

"Dude, it's called being safe."

While Max and Shane debate, a public service announcement verses typical teenage oblivion, Maeve peeks over at Kaylie and how she's caught up texting. Maeve leans in until her chin rests on Kaylie's shoulder. "Kaylie Cruz, you shady lady. Sexting under the table instead of brainstorming." Kaylie is pulled away from Nicky telling her about the history exam he just took. "Tell me you've taken the next step."

"Maeve." Kaylie huffs. "Not exactly a caf conversation."

Having given up trying to eat his tray of cafeteria food and convince Shane of anything he doesn't believe, Max finds the girl's conversation much more interesting. "Wait, you two haven't done it yet?"

Embarrassed, Kaylie shrugs away from Maeve who giggles. "Guys, seriously. This is far from appropriate to talk about, especially right now, especially here. What's with everyone and making my personal life topic of conversation?"

"He _is_ my cousin," Max reminds her. "I could talk to him if you want…"

A blush creeps up along Kaylie's cheeks and Maeve tilts her chin back with a laugh. She wraps her thin, nearly skeletal arm around Kaylie and pulls her mortified friend even closer, practically cuddling her. "Max," Maeve says, "you're embarrassing her."

"You started it," Max childishly shoots back. Before the humiliation can continue, a boy with feathered brown hair comes up behind Shane and Max, sticking his face between their shoulders. "Hey, Glen, what's up?"

"I just saw the latest pics on your blog, bro," Glen says. "That party looked _sick_. Sucks I had to miss it. That chick looked like a fun time."

"What party? Why didn't I know about it? And most importantly, what chick besides me is featured on your blog, babe?" Maeve asks. She uses her nice voice, which obviously means she's the slightest bit (or a lot) threatened. Kaylie lets her phone rest in her lap, finally interested in what her friends are talking about.

"Here, I'll show you," Shane volunteers, blind to the tension. He pulls his laptop out of his backpack and pulls up the screen. Maeve glares at Max like she already knows he did something wrong and the young photographer isn't doing much to look less guilty. "Ba-da-boom. Check it, ladies."

Reaching across the table, Maeve takes the laptop and sets it in the empty space in front of her. Kaylie huddles closer and they look at the collection of photos. From what they see, Max really does have talent. He knows how to utilize lighting just right, capturing people from angles that make them look best. He sells the life that everyone wishes they had.

The photographed people are probably just a bunch of ordinary teens, some older, hanging out at someone's house; however, with the low lighting and the elite ambiance, they seem more like celebrities at an exclusive party. If Max can make normal folks look this cool, there's no telling what he can do with actual models.

"I see a bunch of dudes, playing pool and drinking," Maeve says, bored. "Where's the chick?"

"Scroll down."

The next batch of pictures catches Kaylie's attention. There are a series of moment-to-moment snapshots of a guy doing body shots off a girl. He's shirtless and African American with nearly nonexistent hair and muscles atop muscles. A thick silver chain hangs around his neck. The girl, practically unconscious, is Kelly Parker.

"How degrading," Maeve spits. She turns the laptop around for everyone else at the table to see. "It's girls like this where you shouldn't be surprised that they aren't virgins. What a stupid tramp. Way to set women back a hundred years."

"Hmm." Glen scratches his chin. "Maeve, what do you want to be when you grow up again?"

Shane and Glen share a laugh while Max tries not to join in.

"No. Don't try to compare me to Miss Two Seconds Away from Herpes!" Maeve motions to the laptop as evidence. Kaylie shifts, still staring at the pictures. "FYI, Glen, Victoria's Secret Angels are sexy and classy. Kelly Parker letting some male stripper suck her naval is _not_."

"Wait," Kaylie says. "You remember Kelly Parker from when she went to school here?"

"Try a more personal level, through your boyfriend," Maeve explains. To Kaylie, this new info comes as a surprise. "Max and I have been together for almost three years now. My first Russo family gathering and _she_ was there. Gag. But it's okay now. Nicky moved on to you and Kelly Parker has apparently down on to _this_."

"They were never actually dating," Max offers sympathetically.

"I know," Kaylie assures him. "So was Nicky with you at this party?"

"Nicky isn't the party type if you haven't noticed." Max laughs at the mental image. "I know the guy who threw the party. He owns a print shop in Denver and he develops some of my work. He invited me and I guess someone there invited Kelly."

"More like slutty." Maeve snorts. "Kaylie Cruz, you have no clue how relieved I am that Nicky finally upped his taste level and dropped the dead, bitch weight. Now he's actually acceptable to be seen with in public."

Shane scowls. "I can't believe you guys hang with that loser now."

"Hey, that loser happens to be my boyfriend," Kaylie says.

"And he nearly broke my nose," Shane reminds her. Brushing off the bitterness, Shane stares at the pictures of Kelly and whistles. "Damn, that's the chick Lauren use to torture? Time away from Taft has been good to her. What I'd give to take a shot off of that…"

"Shane, keep that shit to yourself. Moving on." Maeve shuts the laptop. "Now that Nicky lost the nerd glasses and picked up this hottie," she playfully nudges Kaylie, "Kay has totally quadrupled his popularity value."

"Plus, it's our senior year and community service is required. Think of it as an Adopt a Dork Program," Max jokes. He shows no guilt over pretending he didn't know Nicky during his time at Taft. "Anyways, yeah, those pictures have gotten so many hits this morning alone. I'm thinking blackmail."

Maeve laughs. "I've trained you well."

"I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet and until then, I can trust you won't tell Nicky, right?" Max asks. "I mean, it'll just upset him and the last thing any of us want is him running back to her. Kaylie, you agree that a Kelly Parker-free life is a happy one, right?"

"Right."

"So you'll keep this between us?"

"Max, he's going to find out sooner or later, especially if Slutty Parker ends up on the front cover of trashy gossip mags," Maeve says. "I don't appreciate you asking Kaylie to lie to her boyfriend."

"I'm not asking her to lie to anyone!" Max argues. "I'm asking her not to say anything to him. My main concern here is Nicky and we all know how he gets when it comes to her…"

He'd been clearly addressing Maeve, but Kaylie answers with a, "yeah, I know."

Maeve lights with renewed interest. "What has Slutty said to you? If she pulled out her scare tactics on my bestie we're driving to Denver and finally giving the bitch what she deserves."

Shane playfully elbows Nicky. "Make sure you get good pics of them trying."

Max lifts his camera from his lap and takes their picture. "Plotting stage."

"Max, you could at least warn us," Maeve says, tossing her hair about. "I'm not photo-ready."

"It's practice for when the paparazzi are following you around," Kaylie teases. "Plus, I don't think I've ever seen you not photo-ready."

"Thank you, m'dear," Maeve says. "And know I'm serious. If Kelly Parker or anyone for that matter tries to mess with you I've got your back, Kaylie Cruz."

"Aw, thanks, May."

"Cute," Shane says. "Now kiss."

Kaylie and Maeve both roll their eyes. Suddenly there's a deadly scream from the other end of the long cafeteria table and it draws everyone's attention. It's Alison.

…

Lauren will tell you that she's been making a conscious effort to be a better person, but when someone like Alison DiLaurentis pushes her, Lauren is going to push back. That's one thing about her that hasn't changed and probably won't ever.

"Okay." Emily hugs her binder to her chest as they walk towards the cafeteria. "The moment we've all been waiting for. I woke up extra early and Ike did math in the morning for this. I'm ready to be impressed, ashamed and maybe a little proud, but guilty for feeling proud."

"And we plan on forcing you to feel every one of those emotions," Ike says.

The cafeteria is not a place they visit frequently. Ike's designated tutoring sessions usually take place during lunch so they're usually in the library. Today they enter uncharted territory. They snag the table across the one Kaylie and the Royals are at, trying to be as stealthy.

Right on schedule, Alison is by the food bar, waiting near the door of the kitchen. For extra cash, the Royals get specially prepared meals, avoiding the greasy mystery meats the line usually serves up. One of the work-study girls, the pincushion Ike mentioned, hands Alison a tray with a wrap on it. She slips her the money and is on her way over to the Royal table. Strangely enough, Lauren isn't watching Alison as intently as she should.

"Em, be real with me. Does that bug you?" Lauren nods to where Kaylie is with Maeve.

"No," Emily answers, soft and unsure.

"Liar!" Lauren says with an _ah-hah!_ "Now, try again and I want total honesty, Emily Kmetko."

"So it bugs me," Emily says exasperatedly, "but it isn't like I can just say, 'hey, Kay, your friends make me feel weird and out of place. Stop hanging out with them.' Especially with last summer and Payson's gymnastics camp friends…"

"Yeah, but Payson's gymnastics friends are summer friends and Payson wouldn't parade them in front of us like _someone_."

"Lo, you know she doesn't do it on purpose," Emily says, her voice small and whiny. Lauren presses her lips together to form a straight, tense line. "So she likes hanging out with Maeve Benson. There isn't much we can do about that."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Shhh." Ike silences the girl chatter. "The stage is set."

They look over and see Alison. Her hair is extra curly today, falling in tendrils around her face. She talks with her hands, elbows pressed into the table at the sides of her lunch tray. Emily has a book open in her lap, eyes down, reading to herself while Lauren sits on the edge of her seat, sick with anticipation. Ike is next to her, spazzing more than usual.

"Get ready for the fireworks," Lauren says excitedly.

While someone talks excitedly to her, Alison lifts her Caesar wrap for a bite. She inspects it for a moment, seeing the shredded romaine lettuce nestled in the flour tortilla, sticking out through the one open end. After weighing it in her hands, she goes to take a bite. Her teeth sink in, but she pauses, finding it a little too crunchy and a little strange.

Alison pulls back with a chunk in her mouth and once she does, a mixture of dead crickets, maggots and earthworms spill out from the middle of the wrap. Alison's unnaturally tanned face turns a ghostly shade. She drops the wrap and spits it out before letting out the loudest, skin-crawling scream. The entire cafeteria goes quiet, eyes turning in her direction.

Tears start to bubble at the brim of her eyes and she grabs the nearest bottle of water, filling her mouth and spitting it back onto the plate, not even caring how unattractive that is. With nearby napkins, Alison cleans off her tongue, whimpering and shaking from side to side.

No makes a sound, except Ike and Lauren who openly celebrate. Ike jumps out of his seat and slams his hands down against the table like a monkey in a zoo. Lauren can't believe it actually worked! When she can't take the laughter shaking her chest, Lauren leans into Emily.

"Looks like Alison didn't like today's special!" Ike sings in a bad opera-type voice.

"What a shame," Lauren says. "I hear a daily dose of crickets is good for the skin."

"Don't forget the maggots and worms," Ike reminds her. "I hear they're tangy."

"Operation Soul Skater," Emily says, connecting the dots. "The lunch scene where they put earthworms in the X-Blandz guy's sandwich. Wow, that's a new level of amazingly awful."

"Amazingly awful but genius…?" Ike says hopefully.

Emily holds out as long as possible, but ends up smiling. "Amazingly awful, but pretty genius."

"Just when you think you can't learn anything from Disney Channel movies," Lauren muses.

"Yeah, but the 90s was a different universe completely."

"Team Soul Skaters for the win."

Lauren holds up her hand and Ike looks like a puppy about to be rewarded with a treat. He claims his high-five and both reveling in a job well done. Alison stands, eyes dark with rage, a bull at a crowded bullring. She marches over, heels assaulting the waxed floor.

"You!" Alison shouts. Her anger overcomes her ability to be articulate. She points a finger at Lauren who doesn't even try to fake innocence. Her plan was a success and she isn't going to hide from that, though like hell she's going to verbally admit to anything.

"Me," Lauren says. "To what do I owe this pleasure, DiLaurentis?"

"You and your disgusting faggot tried to poison me!"

"I am not a fag!"

"We had nothing to do with this," Lauren cuts in, cool as always. "Just because we laughed doesn't mean we should set a trial date. Now why don't you run along and finish your lunch?"

"You think you're so big and bad. You're nothing," Alison says snidely. "At least, not anymore."

"What did you just say to me?"

"Lo," Emily says quietly from her left. "Remember what we talked about? Choosing battles."

"Yeah, listen to Orphan Annie over here," Alison says. "Oh, wait, Orphan Annie didn't have a bodaciously slutty, Laguna loser mom. Orphan Annie was better off."

Under normal circumstances, Lauren would be the first to playfully tease Momma Kmetko and her less than wholesome ways and her less than stylish fashion choices, but Alison took it too far. The look on Emily's face is devastating. Lauren's hands curl into fists and suddenly this isn't as funny anymore.

"Leave my friends out of this," Lauren hisses. That protective instinct she's built when it comes to Emily takes over. "If you have a complaint about your lunch, take it up with someone else because I didn't have anything to do with it and I sure as hell don't care. Bye-Bye, Ali."

Alison stands across the table, calculating. She bounces on her feet and puts on a deceptive smile. "Okay. I'll go, but I want to leave you with something to remember me by…" She turns away long enough to peer over at the next table and grabs a random person's carton of milk. Before she could even think to shield her face or move away, Lauren feels the cold, thick milk slam her in the face. Drops even splash onto Ike and Emily on either side of her.

"Bitch, you did not just Model Behavior me!" Lauren feels her Mr. Hyde trying to claw to the surface, provoked by disrespect. Alison committed a crime worthy of a face-to-face confrontation. When Lauren leaves the table, Emily doesn't even try to stop her. Alison has her back to her, addressing her table of friends who all laugh and clap. Lauren doesn't take the time to search for Kaylie's reaction. She's too busy with a handful of Alison's hair, yanking as hard as she can, taking a whole chunk of extensions with her.

"The fuck!"

"Like you don't deserve it!" Lauren shoves her hard. Alison stumbles back, but then is propelled forward, fueled by her own anger, getting in Lauren's face. With the back and forth pranks going on for months, it was bound to come down to this.

"You're a crazy bitch," Alison spits. "No wonder you don't have any cool friends."

"Oh, my God!" Lauren laughs maniacally. "Do you really think I give a damn about 'cool' anymore? I have friends. You're the one living a fake ass life with your fake ass friends to match your fake ass family and your fake ass face!"

Verbal attacks aren't enough anymore. Alison shoves Lauren so hard she almost falls on her ass. Luckily, she catches herself and retaliates. Hair is yanked in every direction, screams so shrill they make onlookers wince, slaps cross faces and nails that leave red marks. Their fellow students are on their feet and cheering for unexpected girl on girl violence. It isn't long before faculty members rush in and intervene, sending both the blondes to the principal's office.

Lauren and Alison wait side by side outside Mr. Matsui's office. Alison sits straight, purse in her lap, knees together, staring at the ceiling. Lauren occupies the seat next to her, one ankle tucked behind the other, arms crossed, eyes roaming. This is definitely not how they planned Operation Soul Skaters to end.

"Just great." Alison reaches for the bottle of water in her purse, taking a swig and spitting it out in the nearby trashcan. It's a wonder that she hasn't barfed yet; only the slightest bit impressive. "This is going on my permanent record for sure."

"Can you, like, not talk?" Lauren snaps. Sweetly, she adds, "Thanks, hon."

Alison curls her fingers around the water bottle until the plastic crackles. "What did I ever do to you besides try and be your friend?"

"Oh, how about telling Kaylie about Carter and AJ last summer? Pictures included," Lauren says. Her hair is still wet from the milk, now starting to dry and stiffen. It makes the situation that much more uncomfortable. "I was going to break the news to her myself, do it gently, but _no_. She hears about it from you the minute she's back on U.S. soil. You started this."

"Only because you randomly went bitch mode on me when I thought we were getting along fabulously! I told Kaylie the truth and it doesn't seem to matter anyways. You gave up your popularity for her and she chose a new bestie. You can't really blame Maeve. She has more charm in her little finger than you do in your giant ass."

"Why are you still talking, again?"

"I can't help, but wonder what makes Lauren Tanner tick. A bit of critique, _hon_, the next time you execute a scheme it's probably best not to break out in celebration right there. Gloating has always been your downfall. Just like with the laxatives at my party last summer."

"You still can't prove it was me."

"Do I really need proof? As if you didn't beat around the Twitter bush and badly."

Lauren doesn't respond, mostly because she sees her dad walking towards her. He's in a suit like always, so very neat and tidy from the wave of his hair down to the shine of his shoes. Lauren does her best to avoiding his face because she can already feel the anger. Suddenly, it becomes a good thing Alison is next to her. It makes Steve hold his tongue. Once Jessica DiLaurentis shows up, the secretary tells them they can go into Matsui's office.

It isn't a surprise that Lauren has been to see Mr. Matsui too many times to count. Only once before has Steve ever been called in and that time involved Morgan Webster and a bottle of shampoo infused with Nair. That incident was reason for suspension or even expulsion, but Steve got her out of it with a generous donation to the school. This time, a little fight in the cafeteria shouldn't be that big of a deal.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Matsui," Lauren says politely. "I'm hoping we can make this quick. I wouldn't want to miss any more of English. It is, after all, my favorite class and academics are very important to me."

Mr. Matsui isn't one bit swayed. "Just take a seat, Miss Tanner. Your usually will do."

Her facade dims as Lauren falls into her seat on the left. Steve sits next to her while Alison and her mom take the two empty seats to the right. From there is the strenuous task of explaining what happened, their sides of the story and what eyewitness lunch monitors have to say about it. No one can prove anything that happened with the Cesar wrap, but so many saw Alison throw the milk at Lauren and just as many saw Lauren administer the first slap.

"So I've come to a decision," Mr. Matsui says. "Obviously, your actions in no way exemplify what's expected of Taft and will not go by unpunished."

"Let me guess," Lauren says. "Detention?"

"Already added to your current detention time, I believe you'll be in there two years after graduation, Miss Tanner," he says. "From this day forward both of you are suspended from any and all extra curricular activities for the next two months." Both their faces drop. "Lauren, that means no cheerleading. No practices, no games. I don't want you near the field or gym."

"No," Lauren says, nearly standing up from her seat. "But the Colorado Classic is in April. There's no telling what the squad will do without me and not to mention it'll be impossible to jump in days before the competition!"

"Well, you should have thought of that before," Mr. Matsui says. "And for you, Alison, that means no more Student Life, which is a shame because I hear you almost singlehandedly organized Valentines Day dance this year. I'm sorry to say the rest of the planning committee will just have to execute in your absences."

"Those monkeys couldn't even screw in a light bulb without me!"

"Ali," her mom growls. Mrs. DiLaurentis is professional in her charcoal gray suit and ironed-straight dirty blonde hair. Her voice is unsympathetic.

"My decision is final and that's not all," Mr. Matsui goes on, "since you two apparently have all this energy I figure you need to put it to positive and productive use. For the rest of the year, you'll be lending a hand to the arts. Alison, you'll be helping out our drama club with the spring play and Lauren, you'll be with the yearbook staff."

"Gross," Lauren says without shame.

"Double Gross," Alison says. "Quality time with the art freaks? Why don't you just kill me?"

"I completely agree with Principal Matsui's decision," Mrs. DiLaurentis says. "You're doing it."

"I couldn't say it better myself," Steve agrees.

"I'm glad we all agree. And, girls, if I hear from any of your superiors, be it another student or a club adviser that you aren't pulling your weight then your suspension from the cheerleading squad and the SLPC will be prolonged. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Alison says. Lauren bites her tongue, holding back what she really wants to say.

"Good. I hope this experience teaches the both of you to think before you act. I look forward to seeing you start tomorrow, second half of lunch. Alison, drama club meets in the auditorium and Lauren, yearbook is in the newsroom. Now, you're free to go, take the rest of the day off and learn a little self-respect, ladies."

Once they leave Mr. Matsui's office, Alison starts walking towards Lauren, ready to have it out a second time, but her mom grabs her by the arm and pulls her to the exit. Lauren watches her go, feeling the start of a smug smile, but then she catches her father's face. Steve's expression cuts deep. She's in so much trouble.

"Hey, Lo!" Kaylie walks over, ignoring the tension. "Hi, Mr. Tanner. Do you think I could talk to Lauren for a second before you go? It's really, really important and it won't take long."

"Kaylie, shouldn't you be in class?" Steve tries to hold back his anger in front of Kaylie and Lauren hasn't been happier to see her old friend.

"Study hall," Kaylie answers. "Please?"

Lauren looks over at Steve with big, innocent eyes. "Please, daddy?"

"Fine." He gives in. "I need to get back to work. Straight home, Lauren. Not a single stop, no detours. We'll talk about this tonight when I get home."

Both thank him and after giving Kaylie a nod and completely ignoring his daughter (probably to keep from exploding) Steve makes his way to the door. Breathing a loud sigh, Lauren goes in the opposite direction, towards her locker, and Kaylie follows.

"So," Kaylie starts, "what was that in the caf today?"

"Oh, so you care?"

"Yes, I care, Lauren."

"Really? Because you seemed just a little preoccupied."

Ignoring the implication, Kaylie asks, "Are you okay?"

"Fine. Besides the fact that I am officially suspended from cheerleading and forced to play yearbook staff slave, I guess it's better than getting suspended or expelled."

Kaylie's face shatters. "But the Classic! Taft has dominated the competition every year since the Darby Conrad golden era! What does Matsui expect us to do without our captain?"

"I know! When she graduated I promised Dar we'd protect that winning streak. Matsui knows this! If we don't bring home a win it gives him reason to cut our funding for next year. Our _senior year_," Lauren explains, heatedly. "It looks like you need to step up, co-captain."

"We're _so_ screwed."

Once they reach Lauren's locker, the blonde turns the dial of her lock very slowly, trying to figure out what to say next. "Listen, Kay, I'm sorry for giving you a hard time at the barbeque. It was stupid and though I did it in the bitchiest way possible, I really meant what I said about the jeans being between us friends, but apparently I have a way of making everything I say sound like it's purely about me."

"You aren't alone," Kaylie confesses. "I just really want things to go well with Nicky…"

"Then you have nothing to worry about," Lauren says cheerily, trying to show her enthusiasm and support. "You have the boy on a pink, bedazzled string."

"Sometimes I don't know how true that is…"

"Kaylie, Nicky is yours. With traffic, it's almost an hour from Denver to here. Most guys would drive over an hour for sex, but only a good handful would just to see you. _He drives just to see you_. Kay, if you don't know how lucky you are I should slap you right now."

"I think you've done enough of that for one day," Kaylie says, with a smile. "I should probably get back before Ms. Roy realizes it doesn't take this long to deliver a note to the office. I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"Besides the end of life as I know it, I'm fine," Lauren says. "So all is forgiven, right?"

"Right," Kaylie says. She pulls Lauren away from her locker and into a hug. "You could have at least warned me you were planning something. Then I would have been watching for Alison's reaction instead of just having to hear her scream shatter my eardrums."

Lauren laughs. "O.M.G. Why does everyone assume I'm behind the cricket wrap?"

The dark-haired girl leans back enough to give Lauren a knowing look and the blonde just laughs, pulling Kaylie into another hug. Lauren wishes she could make this moment last forever because when her dad gets home tonight, she has to prepare for yet another battle.

...

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Note<strong>: And KP makes her début and it is a tragic, sloppy one. What do you think? Extras should be on our Livejournal some time this week. Don't forget to check that out!

**Review**.

#WeFab #LLD2 #LLDforever


	5. Cut Through the Mess

**Warning: **Hold on to your hearts, lovers. Someone's must break.

* * *

><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

Lauren makes her house as calm and comfortable as possible before Steve gets home. She knows her abilities and doesn't even attempt home cooked, going for takeout instead. She has it out of containers and on plates by the time Steve pulls into the driveway and even plays one of her dad's relaxation tapes—sounds of the ocean. Lauren doesn't get it, but Steve loves it.

"Lauren! We need to talk!"

"Okay, okay, but first, how about we eat?"

The blonde wears a hopefully smile as her father lays down his briefcase and loosens his tie. The dining room table is set and soothing sounds of crashing waves fill the room. Steve sighs, rubbing the back of his head, making strands stand on ends.

"Fine."

No one likes tension and that includes the Tanners, who make a big effort to ignore what's unsaid all dinner. Lauren picked out one of her father's favorite wines and periodically offers to pour him more. Maybe she can get him drunk to the point of forgetting the necessary punishment. Right now, anything but silence would be nice.

"So how was work, daddy?"

"Stressful."

Fuck. That cannot mean good things for her.

"That sucks," Lauren says quietly. "Why? What's going on?"

"They need me in Chicago." Steve stabs at a meatball with his fork and shoves it into his mouth. As he chews, Lauren stares at her plate, not hungry. There are few things she hates more than when work rips him away from her. "I'm supposed to leave on Thursday."

"That soon?"

Steve sets down his utensils and Lauren knows it's time. "Okay, I think it's time to talk. Now, when I found out about this business trip I felt bad because I know you don't like it when I leave you here alone, but with what happened this afternoon, I'm worried."

"If you have to go then you have to go," Lauren says. "It's fine, really. I'll be okay by myself."

"That's not what I mean, Lauren."

She reads his expression carefully. "You don't trust me to be here alone and not do something stupid." He nods and her face twitches from the sting. "Daddy, I know what happened today looked bad, but you weren't there! Alison dissed Emily and Miss Kmetko! You know me. I can't just sit there and take it. Her throwing the milk at me was the last straw."

"I thought we were over this, Lauren. The deal was that we'd both put more of an effort into it, that I'd make time for you and that you would stop pulling stunts like this."

"I _am_!"

"But it isn't showing, Lauren. After what happened with Morgan Webster I thought you learned your lesson, but apparently not. I honestly don't know what to do with you anymore…"

"I wasn't thinking. I admit that," Lauren says. "I'm sorry, daddy."

Steve clears his throat after a quiet moment spent reflecting. "This Chicago deal could change the entire face of the company and I need to be there to see it through. While I'm gone I think it'd be best if you stayed with one of your friends. I'll call Kim or Ronnie…"

"No," Lauren says. "This isn't fair! I've changed! Sure, it's been a slow process, but I'm trying. You've told me so, but one little thing comes up and you lose all faith in me?"

"One little thing? Lauren, you put worms in a poor girl's lunch!"

"I had nothing to do with that!" Lauren shouts. Steve leans over the table with a pointed, accusing look in his eyes. It makes her crumble. "Okay, so maybe I had something to do with it, but I didn't _literally_ put it in her food."

"But it was your idea."

"The souls skaters, actually," she says. Steve doesn't seem to be budging at all. "Okay, so maybe I had _some_ part in coming up with it, but Alison is just as guilty as I am—"

"But Alison isn't my daughter."

"Daddy, I promise you this is the last time. Matsui suspended me from cheerleading. Do you have any idea what this is doing to me? And on top of that, he's forcing me to do this stupid thing with the yearbook. If that isn't punishment enough, my own dad doesn't trust me."

Her eyes start to water and Steve crumbles just the same. Lauren does everything in her power to think before she says or does something to ruin this.

"I think we should sleep on it," Steve says. "Dinner was lovely. I'll see you in the morning."

Steve walks away, probably to his office or his room. Lauren sits a while longer, staring at the untouched food on her plate. Tossing her napkin onto the table, Lauren leaves it for the maids to clean and shuts off the ocean sounds. She goes to take a soothing bubble bath (that doesn't sooth her much) and straight to bed early.

The next day at school lifts her spirits only a little when she's met with smiles and congratulations from anyone who isn't a Royal. They're naming her the official Queen of the Rejects. It isn't the title Lauren would want for herself, but she'll take what she can.

Lunch comes quick and along with it is Lauren's first meeting with the yearbook committee.

"Hey, I've been looking for you!" Kaylie rushes up to Lauren, who pauses, carefully trying to read her. Kaylie never approaches Lauren during school. She must want something. "Where are you headed? Can we talk for a sec?"

"On my way to yearbook committee probation, but I can talk. It gives me an excuse to prolong the punishment. What's up? Are the other girls on the squad singing 'ding dong the witch is dead' or freaking out because they know you're all screwed without me?"

"I've been avoiding that all day. Still am, actually. Not what I want to talk about," Kaylie says. "_So_ I hear your dad is going out of town…"

"No. My dad didn't really call Ronnie, did he?"

"Yep," Kaylie answers. "My guess is he wanted to go to Mrs. Keeler for parenting advice, but with Payson's dad home, he didn't want to intrude and Mrs. Kmetko has enough on her plate right now so he chose my mom by default, _but_ this is perfect!"

"Perfect?"

"Well, my mom talked to me about it and I told her your dad should trust you, maybe see this as a test. My mom and I can drop in from time to time to make sure the place isn't a circus. I gave her the suggestion and she passed it along to your dad and he's thinking about it."

"And why are you helping me like this?"

"Because we're friends."

Lauren has to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes. "And?"

"And I sort of have a tiny favor to ask…"

"Knew it," Lauren thinks aloud. "What is it, Kay? Jeans-related, maybe?"

"Nope. That idea got shot down and I'm moving on. Anyways, as you know, the seniors have been throwing a party every weekend since New Years and want to throw one every weekend up until graduation…"

Lauren knows and hasn't been invited to a single one.

"Well, they're sort of out of a place to have this weekend's party and I know it's short notice, but it's been so long since you threw one and—"

"No."

"Lo." Kaylie groans, so brave as to grab onto Lauren's arm.

"I don't think you understand how pissed my dad is at me!" Lauren shoves Kaylie off her. "So what if he trusts me to stay home and sees it as a test? Then, apparently, I fail that test if I turn right around and throw a party right after he leaves."

"He never has to find out."

"Kaylie, I can't believe you're asking me to do this."

"Please? I already talked it out with everyone. They weren't ecstatic about my idea either, but I think we could all use this. It'll be like a, um, a party for peace! I know it's been killing you, being shut out like this, and I think this party is exactly what we all need to clear the air."

"If you haven't gotten the memo, Kay, I don't care about them and I sure as hell don't need their approval," Lauren says, slow and sure. "So if you have a plan B, right now would be the best time to pitch it."

"Do it for me," Kaylie says. Everything about Kaylie is pleading and she is too good at that pout. "I really want this and I'd readily volunteer my house if my mom was out of town. Please, Lo. It would mean the world to me."

"Fine," Lauren gives in, "but we don't know what my dad'll decided so don't go around telling your little friends that they can have their stupid party at my house."

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Kaylie jumps in place and hugs Lauren tight. Though she doesn't return it, the smile on Lauren's face is undeniable. "I love you, Lo."

"It's funny how you only love me when I'm doing you favors," Lauren says. Kaylie just ignores that and hugs her tighter, swaying from side to side. "Okay, okay. I'm late as is."

"Okay, and you'll text me tonight, right? About what your dad says?"

"Sure."

After Kaylie gives her one last squeeze, she leaves Lauren to think about how they so easily act like friends and not friends five minutes later. She doesn't know what's going on with her friendship with Kaylie, but sometimes it's easier to just ride it out than to think about it.

Nice Mac desktops line the newsroom. In the far corner is a video camera where they film the morning announcements. The camera is focused on a desk with a backdrop of the Taft High logo, their school mascot and it's a rooster as in _Hey, them Taft kids are giant cocks!_ Kids from rival schools can be such assholes.

"You're late." The first two words Max Spencer ever says to her. Lauren has always found him attractive. Something about his smile, how laidback and low-key he is. It's incredibly appealing, but the tone he takes with her, like he's superior, knocks him back in her book. "You're the parolee, right?"

"That obvious?"

"After yesterday." Max laughs, leaving his desk and walking to her. "Lauren Tanner, right?"

"Do you even need to ask?"

"I'd appreciate it if you checked the attitude at the door," Max says, pointing just behind her for emphasis. "You think I wanted this? All we wanted was a little equal funding and respect since it's pretty obvious the art department has been neglected in favor of athletics. We went to the school board, filed a formal complaint and won. Now Matsui is upset and gets back at us by giving us all of his castoff detention kids who cause more trouble than they're worth."

"Well, that doesn't have to be me," Lauren says, her devious (slightly flirty) tone surfacing. "As long as you give Matsui glowing remarks about me then I can get out of your way and let you do your thing. Sounds like a win-win to me."

Before Lauren can walk out the door, practically tasting freedom, Max stops her. She should have known it sounded too good to be that easy.

"As much as I don't like it, I don't believe in giving free passes." Max picks up a camera from the large paper-covered desk in the middle of the room. "How are you with a camera?"

"I rock the inverted Facebook pics pose," Lauren brags, demonstrating by holding one hand out in front of her face as if to hold the camera a little away from her and arching her body just right. "I center every time."

Max laughs even though Lauren was totally serious. "Not what I meant." He hands her the camera. It must be old with how bulky it is, gray and black with a long, protruding adjustable lens. "Do you know how to use one of _these_?"

"It's a camera," Lauren says, a little annoyed that he's treating her like she's a dumb blonde. "You point and shoot. Ta-da! You have a picture." Max laughs quietly, sounding genuinely entertained and Lauren is confused by how she isn't offended. Flexing her fingers against the smooth plastic of the camera, Lauren takes a closer look. "Crap. This thing is a dinosaur."

"Great, isn't it? That's the one great thing about the lack of funding," Max says. "This baby is one of the first Nikon digital cameras in existence, dating back to the early 90s, maybe the late 80s. At the beginning of the digital age it was prohibited to transmit pictures without certification so showing off the advantages of an electronic camera was so valuable back then and now anyone can just, as you demonstrated, point and click."

Lauren looks at the camera and sees a heavy, ugly ass piece of junk, but Max sees a relic to be worshipped. When he runs his fingertips along the bulky pieces, his fingers accidentally brush hers. When her body reacts to his touch, it makes Lauren uncomfortable, but Max is still fully focused on the camera. He sees something she can't and misses what she notices.

"How informative," Lauren says dryly. The last thing she expected was a history lesson on cameras from the Stone Age. Before Max can share any more potentially Jeopardy factoids, the bell rings and lunch is over. "Well, it looks like I have to get to class…"

"You two should get acquainted." Max motions to the camera. "I'm thinking of putting you in charge of the candid section in the yearbook, with my approval, of course. Maybe tomorrow if you come on time I'll show you how to use this dinosaur."

Lauren loathes the idea of having to lug the camera around, but then again she can just make Ike carry it. She's about to head to her next class when Max stops her, swinging the strap of his knapsack over his shoulder. "Listen, I know you have issues with my friends and my girlfriend, but I like to keep things professional when I'm in here. This—newspaper and yearbook—it's important to me."

"I can tell," Lauren says. Oddly enough, she means it. "Since I'm stuck here we might as well try to get through it in the least painful way possible so, fine, consider the 'tude checked at the door."

Max smiles and damn does the boy have a nice smile. Lauren can't help, but notice. "See you tomorrow, parolee, and don't break the camera."

Lauren watches him go, about to head to Chemistry (gross) but as she's putting the camera in her bag, she sees a new text on her phone. Everything slips away when she sees it's from AJ Cruz. Two words:

_I'm back. _

…

Mark Keeler hasn't ever met Sasha Belov, but today he does.

The Keelers get to the Rock earlier than usual to discuss the future of Payson's career and the business of signing with a sports management executive. Having little experience with the sports management industry, they thought it best to seek someone who's dealt with these people firsthand. Enter Sasha Belov.

"He keeps his actual Olympic gold medal in this office?" Mark asks. His wife and daughter are sitting in the chairs lined up in front of Sasha's desk, patiently waiting. Mark can't keep still for more than a few seconds and walks up to the glass case that holds framed pictures, memorabilia and coveted Olympic gold metals. There's a dinky lock on the sliding door, but anyone with a bobby pin could pick it. "There isn't even a security system in this place."

"It's much safer in here rather than the airstream," Payson says.

Mark points to his daughter. "True."

"Mark, sit down," Kim calls to him. "And stop touching everything."

He smirks. "Pay, do you hear the way your mother talks to me? Like I'm a child or_ Becca_."

"Only when you act like a child," Kim shoots back. "Or Becca."

They share a smile that makes Payson smile herself. She's never seen her mom as happy as when she's reunited with her husband.

"Sorry if I kept you waiting," Sasha says, coming into the room. He's tired, looking like he hasn't slept in days. There's something weighing on his mind, but he's Sasha so of course he'd rather keep it to himself.

"Not at all." Payson being Payson, she'd never ask him to tell her something he didn't want to. "Whenever we go anywhere, my parents make it a point to get there fifteen minutes early. No exceptions."

"That's a fair rule to live by." Sasha nods and smiles, turning on that natural charm. "If only my own parents instilled that same mentality in me during my younger years. Alas, I live right outside and you still beat me here."

"If you're looking for a place to stay," Mark says, "you know, without wheels, I can get you the name and number of a realtor friend of mine. He knows Boulder better than most. I'm sure he can set you up with something a little more permanent."

"Sasha," Kim intervenes, "this is my husband, Mark."

"Nice to finally meet. Sasha Belov." He extends a hand and they shake. Payson knows her dad is big on handshakes. He says he can tell a lot about a man by the way he shakes hands. The Keeler women tell him it's silly, but it's one of Mark's rules to live by.

"Don't mind my husband, Sasha," Kim says, slapping Mark's arm when he's back in the seat next to her. "He's always trying to fix things even when they aren't broken."

"Thank you for the offer. I'll consider it," Sasha says with a nod. The handshake must have sufficed because Mark gives the coach a civil, friendly nod. "For now, let's talk about Payson."

"Who's ready to get this over with so she can start training," Payson adds. She never saw the point in how much weighs on the political side of the sport. She thinks they should be judged on skill and performance alone, but apparently it isn't a universal thought. Appearance and reputation mean everything in this world.

"I'll try to make this quick," Sasha assures her. "Sports managers spend their time coordinating all business-related concerns for the athletes that employ them. A good manager will do anything and everything to build a reputation for their athlete, negotiating deals with sponsors, creating an image the public can believe and essentially fall in love with. A major asset in the gymnastics world."

"Just what we're looking for." Mark rubs his palms together. "Now that Payson is on the gymnastics world radar we've been approached by different people with different offers and we just want to get an expert opinion so we aren't going into this blindly."

"This Sheila Baboyon woman left gift baskets on our hood," Kim says. Sasha nods. He saw them too. "I didn't even know mango was in season. Where did she get that?"

Mark snorts, not impressed. "Payson is the World Champion and National Champion and all she has to offer is fruit? We should have new convertibles in the driveway with big red bows."

"_Mark_." Kim slaps his arm again. Turning to Sasha, she assures him, "he's teasing."

"It's true," Mark says innocently. "We could always use another pair of wheels, right, Pay?"

Payson loves her dad, but he can be so embarrassing in that way only dads can.

"Sasha," Kim says, leaning forward in her chair, ready to get down to the real reason they're here. "What have you heard about this Sheila Baboyon woman?"

"Well, she is persistent." Sasha scratches his fingers down his scruffy cheeks. "I've gotten many calls and messages from her asking about Payson specifically and if she could possibly set up a meeting. I haven't gotten back to her yet, but if you're open to it—"

"No," Payson says quickly, severing the conversation. "She isn't an option."

"_Payson_."

"_Mom_."

They turn to stare each other down. Both recall the morning when Kelly Parker was in their kitchen and, as her friend, advised Payson to steer clear of Sheila Baboyon. Kim watched as Payson threw the business card away. She should have seen this one coming.

"We should at least hear what this woman has to offer," Kim says logically. "Pay, you know I love Kelly, I do, but she's also your competition. You're just going to take her word on this?"

"I trust my friends," Payson says. "It's my decision and I say no."

They stare a moment longer and Kim finally relents, "Alright."

"Sasha, who do you suggest?" Mark asks.

"Well, there is one person." Sasha pulls open his desk drawer, evidentially searching for something specific. "I've known her for quite some time now. MJ Martin. When we first met I was just starting out and she was still in college. We're still good friends, get together when our paths happen to cross. I wouldn't expect new cars or gift baskets, but if you're asking my opinion, MJ is fair, levelheaded and perfectly professional."

Sasha pulls out a business card and hands it to Mark.

"I can talk to her if you want and set up a meeting," Sasha suggests, sitting back in his leather chair. "If you do and it doesn't feel right then we can go over your other options."

"Sounds great," Mark says, handing the card to his daughter. "Payson, what do you say?"

"If Sasha trusts her," Payson says, "then it couldn't hurt to meet her."

"Excellent," Sasha says. "I'll get to it as soon as possible."

"Well, this was easy enough," Mark says, standing from his seat. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a job hunt to get back to. Sasha, it was good meeting you."

"It was a pleasure," the coach replies.

"I've never heard anything but adoration from the women of the house and now I see why."

Payson groans. "_Dad_."

"What? If I wanted to be embarrassing, I would have added _Payson especially_ but I did not…as true as that might be," Mark says, just to be extra embarrassing. It's clear why he took to Faith so easily. They share a sick love for making the ones they care about uncomfortable.

"Let's get you out of here before you make things worse." Kim grabs Mark by the sleeve and he wraps his arm around her. "Come on, troublemaker. I'll walk you out."

"Your parents are great," Sasha says once the Keelers disappear out the door.

"Not the word I'd use," Payson replies.

Sasha gives her a slight smile as he sits back down at his desk, finally able to give his cup of coffee a little love. As easy as that meeting had been, Sasha is still stressed, rubbing his face. Before she leaves, Payson asks, "Something wrong, Sasha?"

He notices the way Payson watches him, feeding off of his nervous tension. Sasha relaxes if only a little and swivels his swivel chair, swinging from side to side. "Payson, what do you think about a friendly meet with Boston?"

"Here or are we going to Boston?"

"Here. They've volunteered to fly down. After Tricia Skilken didn't do as well as expected at Worlds, her coach is willing to fight heaven and hell to send a message to the NGO and to everyone that Tricia Skilken is still relevant. What better way than to challenge the current World Champion?"

Once again the political side of the sport rears its ugly head.

"Well," Payson says slowly, "we have one more year until the Olympics. Competition season doesn't start until August. I think we could use all the practice we can get. I'm not intimidated by Tricia Skilken."

"And I'm not worried about you specifically," Sasha says, "but the other elite girls is another matter entirely. They need a leader. I know we've never been clear on a team captain, but it's time for someone to step up."

Payson is floored. She has to be sure. "And you think that someone is me?"

Sasha nods. "I'll make the announcement once everyone gets here."

"I won't disappoint you, Sasha," Payson says very seriously. She walks to the door and almost runs into the glass wall, giving Sasha a big, humiliated smile before continuing on her way out. She's so giddy she can barely contain herself.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Austin asks, coming up beside her.

Payson's smile is yet to fade. "Sasha made me captain of the team. Officially."

"That's awesome!" Austin's so happy for her, so proud and Payson doesn't think about who's watching when her arms hook around his neck. Austin gets carried away himself, spinning her in a circle. Payson has never feels this girly and enjoys it more than she expected.

A throat clears behind them and when Payson panics, thinking its Sasha, instead she finds her dad. This is far from how she imagined introducing Mark to Austin.

"Dad," Payson says, caught off guard. Austin instinctively takes a giant step away from her and Payson's glad. "Um, this is Austin. Austin, this is my dad."

Her voice makes it seem like she has something to hide.

"Yes. Austin Tucker. That's me." Austin's the first to extend a hand and Payson takes note of how Mark eyes Austin's muscular, _tattooed_ arms. The moment of truth. The handshake. "It's nice to finally put a face to the name, Mr. Keeler. I've only heard great things."

"Likewise. Well, the first part at least," Mark says, returning the handshake. His expression is unreadable. "Payson, you left your bag in the car." Mark hands her the duffle and she quietly thanks him. "So what's so exciting?"

Her answer is exactly what'll make the awkward air evaporate. "Sasha just made me captain!"

A smile crosses Mark's face and it wipes away ever trace of suspicion. Payson walks into his awaiting arms, hugging him tight as he repeatedly pats her back. "That's great, kiddo!"

"And I have some exciting info of my own," Austin says, reminding the father and daughter that he's still standing there with them. "Payson, have you checked your phone lately?"

"No. I left it in here during the meeting with Sasha." Ignoring the way her dad is back to eyeing Austin like any protective father would, Payson digs around her bag. She checks her phone and has a new text message as if Austin is psychic or something. When she opens the message, Payson's face goes blank. Mark is worried, but Austin smirks knowingly.

_I got FELT UP by the airport security lady and she took my jar of Nutella! __Je n'aime pas! xoxo_

Only Faith Giancana would.

Payson smiles. A text from Faith means her phone is activated, which means she must be back in the country.

"She text you about the TSA woman?" Austin asks.

"Yep," Payson answers and Austin's smile grows. "What's je n'aime pas…?"

"I don't like," Mark answers. "French. It's nice to know she picked up more than postcards."

"I love her postcards," Austin says. Mark is back to sizing him up. "Anyways, after I got her text, besides assuring her we'll sic KP on the TSA woman, I asked her if she was going to come out here and rejoin the family. This is what she said." Austin holds up his cell phone for the Keelers to see.

_You bet your sweet gymnast ass. Gym Camp Fam for life yo. ;) xoxo -Pretty _

…

Is she using Lauren by doing what she's about to do?

Kaylie and Lauren have steel bond that dates back to the uterus and yet most days it feels fake. Kaylie wants to fight with Lauren, push her until they break the veil and get to the core issues that are causing them to drift. However, the Royals need a decision and with some prompting from Maeve, Kaylie offers the olive branch.

That afternoon, at cheer practice, the other girls freak out when Kaylie confirms the rumor about Lauren being suspended from the squad. As co-captains, Kaylie comes up with the choreography and comforts the girls while Lauren executes, barks orders and keeps everyone on point.

After listening to their grievances and not getting anywhere, they called it a day and Maeve decides she needs a pick-me-up so they hang out at Groovy Smoothie for a bit. Maeve lets her vent about cheerleading and Lauren and even Nicky. Maeve is always willing to listen and always takes her side, Kaylie's definition of a good friend.

Once Kaylie gets home, Ronnie's car is missing from the driveway. Either she's working late in Denver or taking more cooking classes. Kaylie doesn't think much of it. She should really do homework or find a rational solution for the cheer dilemma, but Ronnie leaves issues of _US Weekly_ around and it's so much more appealing than Shakespeare or balance of trade.

Tossing her schoolbag aside, Kaylie snatches the magazine from off the coffee table and flips through the thin pages, fashion advice here and celebrity relationship updates there. She starts to doze off, lounging on the leather sofa, when her phone buzzes, jolting her awake. After all this time just seeing Nicky's name flash across the screen still makes her flustered.

"Hey, you," Kaylie says, once she answers.

"Hey, I didn't leave my AP Calc textbook at your place, did I?"

Kaylie looks around her surroundings and does a mental sweep of her room that she keeps tidy (and if she doesn't, the maids tidy for her). "Not that I know…"

"Damn."

Hearing the stress in his voice, Kaylie sits up. She hates when Nicky's in an emotionally shaky state and doesn't know how to fix it. "Is there no one else you could borrow from?"

"No."

Even more, Kaylie hates when she accidentally makes things worse. She knows Nicky doesn't play well with others unless he's known them all his life. Nicky has acquaintances who he sits with at lunch and partners with on projects, but no one to just hang out with outside of school. Sometimes Kaylie can't help but think she stole it from him or stole him from it.

Things have changed ever since Hector moved to Albany. Nicky's cousin, Mandy, is pregnant and her husband, Matt, is starting his own contracting business. Hector decided to move there to help the newlyweds, working for Matt and going to school at ITT Tech, chasing the American dream. They're happy for him, but also miss him, Nicky especially.

"It's cool," Nicky says. "I'll just go to school early tomorrow. If it isn't in my locker then I can probably borrow a copy from the library."

"Okay. I'll keep an eye out for it," Kaylie says. "So how was your?"

"Fine. Um, Kaylie, I need to go. My dad just walked through the door and we're, uh, going out to dinner. I'll tell you about it later."

Kaylie cringes at the memory of meeting Dr. Donovan Russo. They went out to dinner for Nicky's birthday back in September and it was the most excruciating experience of her life. Parents love Kaylie. She's polite and charming and knows how to carry a conversation. Regardless, dinner was a disaster from the start. It all went wrong when Dr. Russo's opening line was "_Where's Kelly?"_ followed by a "_Who's this?" _

"Okay," Kaylie says. "Talk to you later. Bye, babe." She lazily lets her phone roll away from her and turns her attention back to the magazine in her lap.

Nicky tells her that his dad has been around more, but only because it's Nicky's senior year and time to choose a college. Her boyfriend, who can be uptight to begin with, is constantly stressed and whenever his dad is on his case Nicky's more distant than usual. At least, Kaylie likes to assume it's because his dad.

At one point Kaylie really does fall asleep and the next thing she knows it's an hour later and something heavy plopping onto her, waking her up. Kaylie's eyes shoot open and she finds a miniature human with a round, tan face, chipmunk cheeks and dark, wavy hair. Her eyes are large and brown with the longest envy-worthy eyelashes and her lips are pouty (a signature Cruz trait), stained purple (knowing AJ, he probably fed her candy).

"Amelia," Kaylie says sleepily. Her hands immediately go to the baby's waist, holding her in place as she sits up against the arm of the couch. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Surprise, Aunty Kaylie!" AJ shouts from behind the couch.

Amelia squeals with delight, mimicking him the best she can and throwing her arms in the air.

It's been a few months since they've seen each other. While Amelia constantly surprises her, AJ never changes. He still dresses like he vacations in the Hamptons, crisp dress shirt, dark slack, custom leather shoes and an expensive watch. Underneath the classy, expensive exterior, it's still AJ.

Cradling Amelia against her chest, Kaylie scoots over to make room for her brother. Smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt, AJ leans over to kiss his sister atop her head and sits beside her. Kaylie smiles at Amelia and tickles her till she giggles.

"How's life under the Ronnie microscope, Kales?" AJ asks with a smirk Kaylie never thought she'd miss, but did. "Really. I'm curious. How's chance twenty-seven?"

"Weird," Kaylie says. Honesty at its finest. "She cooks me breakfast."

"And you're still alive?" AJ asks, briefly pressing the back of his hand to his sister's forehead. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Just wait," Kaylie says. "Come tomorrow morning she'll have a feast prepared."

"Jesus, I'm probably better off eating three meals a day at the Pizza Shack," AJ jokes. He uncurls Amelia's tiny fingers and when his daughter looks at him, AJ's smirk softens. "Dad called me the other day. I asked him why this is so important and he lectured me about getting Amelia baptized before demons crawl out from hell and eat her soul."

"Stop," Kaylie says. "It's what Abuela wants and her and Abuelo can't make the trip so the least we can do is have the ceremony and take a lot of pictures for them." Bouncing Amelia on her knee, Kaylie looks from left to right. "So where's her mommy?"

"Mama," Amelia says. When she looks around for Shauna and doesn't find her, AJ frowns and ruffles her hair, trying to draw her attention.

"Oh, mommy's probably grinding on whatever horny old bastard will tip her," AJ grumbles. "Kales, the mother of my child struts around half-naked for a living. Does she look good strutting around half-naked? You can bet your ass she does, but my point is I keep telling her that she doesn't have to, I'm already helping her out with the money, but Shawnee is stubborn, drives me nuts."

"Did you somehow manage to offend her when you made this suggestion?"

"Offensive? AJ? Kaylie, he practically _demanded_ she drop the 'stripper act' and let him take care of her so she can audition for the next season of Real Housewives Palm Springs." A hand clamps over Kaylie's eyes and it comes as a surprise, but from a gentle touch. Kaylie pushes the hand away and tilts her head back to find Leo grinning down at her.

"Leo!" Kaylie cries, handing Amelia over to AJ so she can stand and hug her oldest brother. He came home for Christmas and stayed until New Years, but it always makes Kaylie happy when he visits. After all, when her parents were absent and AJ was being a jerk, Kaylie always had Leo. Even when he was busy at school, Leo always made time for her.

"Oh, so the favorite brother gets you fan-squealing his name like he invented stilettos _and a hug?"_ AJ complains. He fixes his daughter on his knee and affectionately kisses her cheek. "And so what if I said that? Shauna watches that Housewives show all the time. I thought she'd love the opportunity to be head bitch on it."

"And the only one under a hundred and two," Leo says, squeezing his way between AJ and Kaylie on the couch. "Palm Springs is a giant old folk's home."

"Hater." AJ coughs into his fist. Very mature. "Anyways, she's got her _dancer_ gig and the waitressing job so she doesn't fly in till later this week. When Shawnee gets in, we're going skydiving." Both Kaylie and Leo laugh, upsetting AJ who in turn asks, "What's so funny?"

"Aje," Kaylie sputters, "you hate heights."

"Remember the time you got stuck in that tree?" Leo says, obviously finding joy in the memory. "Dad was making us go to church and you hated going to church so much you ran out of the car and climbed that tree, but ended up getting stuck and crying because you were afraid and didn't know how to get down."

"Yeah, when I was ten and Ronnie used to make us wear those embarrassing shorts and bowties." AJ scowls, as if his currently outfit isn't just as ridiculous. "It's been a long time. Fear be gone."

"Still, what would ever possess you to _want_ to do that?" Kaylie asks.

"Shauna dared me," AJ explains. "We're doing it together. Girl is an adrenaline junkie and she doesn't think I've got the balls so of course I gotta do it. Consider this an open invitation. You two can even bring your boyfriends if you want."

"I think I'll pass," Kaylie declines. "I don't see Nicky jumping out of a plane any time soon."

"What about you, Leo?" AJ asks. "You can bring your boy, Carter. Money can't buy that priceless moment, seeing white boy's face when I push him out."

Leo shakes his head, a firm _no way in hell_. "Only in your most disturbed dreams, brother."

"God, I forgot how loud you guys are," Kaylie says. To the Cruz men, there's no distinction between inside and outside voices. "Why are you here anyways? I didn't think you were getting in this early."

"Well, testing ended ahead of schedule," Leo explains, "and AJ doesn't have a _real_ job."

"Hey!" AJ jabs his older brother in the arm. "I'm a stay at home dad! Miss Little Lamb right here is getting the hang of walking and ahead of most kids her age because I work with her everyday. If not, she's crawling around like a maniac. Chasing her around, feeding her and changing diapers. Did I mention she's a diva just like Shauna? Oh, and the foundation is getting an office. _An office_. Fuck yeah. This black sheep is getting shaved!"

"Sheep are _sheared,_ actually," Leo says smartly.

"Go fuck a dog, Leo."

"Watch it," Kaylie says, holding both her palms over Amelia's ears. "AJ, right when I thought you were starting to grow up."

"Growing into an awesomer human being, yes." AJ holds up a finger. "Being a grown up, that's debatable."

Leo points over his shoulder, towards the front door. "We have a good ten pounds of illegal fireworks in the trunk."

"My little Lia loves fireworks," AJ explains. "Not as much as daddy, but genetics say it'll happen." He scoops Amelia up and twirls her in a circle, making the little girl giggle. "Say dada. C'mon."

Amelia just giggles and babbles, but she's so cute AJ doesn't mind and hugs her tight.

"Technically, she said dada before mama, but she was just babbling and actually knows that Shauna is mama. Trying to be funny—which she isn't—Shauna tries to get Melia to call me AJ. Can you believe that?"

Leo and Kaylie just stare at him, wondering if he realizes how genuinely excited he looks every time he talks about Amelia and Shauna.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" AJ stomps his feet. "Let's go shoot fireworks!"

Leo is less enthusiastic about their plans, stretching out his legs to rest on the edge of the coffee table and extending his arms. "AJ, we just got here. I kind of wanted to take it easy."

"Come on, Uncle Leo," AJ whines.

"Lee's right," Kaylie says. "I have homework."

"Kaylie, we're supposed to be living like every day is our last," AJ says. "I don't know about you, but saying that you did homework on the day before the world ended, _that_ is lame. You know you wanna. I made sure to get some pretty pink fireworks just for you."

"How sweet, Aje," Kaylie says sarcastically. "Leo, what do you think?"

Leo does his best to look like he's contemplating when both Kaylie and AJ know he's going to give in. He sighs loudly and starts to sit up, breathing life into AJ's elation. Right when AJ starts to stand, Kaylie grabs Leo's shoulder and forces him back down on the couch.

"And you'll help me with Algebra II?"

Knowingly, Leo counters, "If by 'help' you mean _do your homework for you_ then no."

"I change my mind," Kaylie says quickly. "AJ is the favorite brother."

"Alright!" AJ lifts Amelia's short, chubby arm in celebration. "Aw, Leo, don't be mad, bro. Amelia, let's give Uncle Lame-o kisses!" AJ brings his daughter towards Leo who has no other choice but to open his arms to her. AJ then wraps his arms around the both of them.

Leo laughs, amused. "What did fatherhood do to my brother?"

"This is the new, improved me. Get use to it." AJ winks. "Now let's go pop firework!"

"Fine. Let's get this over with," Leo says, repositioning Amelia in his arms. As reluctant as she is, fireworks with her brothers does sound better than doing homework. "Kaylie, you can check out AJ's new car. Remember his red convertible? Traded it in for a Suburban. #1 in the top ten family cars for 2011."

"Shut up!" AJ glares at Leo, like he'd be beating him if he weren't holding Amelia. "My Suburban is a beast. Seats up to nine, plenty of cargo space. It's not like I got a mini-van."

"So since you have a beast of a Suburban what about giving me your car in the garage?" Kaylie asks. Not even trading looks to confirm it, Leo and AJ laugh. Kaylie frowns, not getting the joke.

"Kaylie, are you kidding?" AJ asks, clearly questioning her sanity. "No way am I letting you take that car. Do you know what it is?"

"A car," Kaylie answers dumbly. "The black car's yours, right?"

"Aw, Aunty Kaylie is so silly," Leo coos to Amelia as he rocks her from side to side. The little girl with the doe eyes giggles, such a soft, happy sound.

"Kaylie, that car is a second-gen Camaro. You've seen Transformers, right? When Bumblebee goes from looking like a junker to a badass? My car is that badass, just in all black and sexy. Dad bought that for me for my sixteenth birthday if I promised to call Ronnie 'mom' to her face. _My first car_. My daughter was conceived in the backseat—"

"Okay!" she shouts, holding up a hand. "I definitely don't want it anymore."

"If you got your permit and took driver's Ed before your sweet sixteen dad would have hooked you up," Leo reminds her. He always seems to do that, remind her that she made the decision when she gets into an unfavorable situation.

"It's a little too late for that. I'd ask him about going car shopping this weekend, but he's stressed as is," Kaylie explains. It seems everyone is these days. "Amelia is one lucky girl and she isn't even going to remember it."

"Yeah, yeah, my kid is cute. First good thing I've ever done. Right. It's getting dark. I want to pop fireworks." AJ has one hand on Leo's shoulder and the other on Kaylie's, practically pushing his siblings out the front door.

The amount of fireworks in the back of AJ's Suburban is enough to make Kaylie nervous. AJ tries to sooth her worries in his typical AJ way by telling her that they'll probably get fined at the worst. When AJ has it in his head that he's doing something there's little anyone can do to stop him.

They drive out to the mountains and Kaylie sits with Amelia in the backseat, holding hands, while Leo tortures AJ upfront for getting rid of all of his usual classic rock and heavy medal, instead playing Disney lullabies and the musical styling of Barney. AJ is defensive, of course, and says it's the only thing that gets Amelia to sleep.

"So, Kales, how's the pet nerd?" AJ asks.

"Good," she answers quickly. "A little stressed, waiting to hear from colleges."

"Yikes. Tough times," Leo says sympathetically.

AJ scoffs. "Like you had any doubts about getting into college."

"Of course I had doubts," Leo says. "Everyone does. You never know what colleges want or how they make their decisions when it comes to admissions. Nicky is impressively smart, though. I'm sure he won't have a problem getting into his first choice. Which is…?"

"NYU. I helped him fill out his applications."

AJ shakes his head. "Start detaching, Kales. I knew that kid was too good to be true. He'll tell you you're gonna do the long distance thing and then he's gonna go off, slowly stop calling you and when he comes home for Christmas break, he'll be wearing skinny jeans, showing off his hacky sack skills and stupid tattoos, addicted to caffeine."

"He's two for four so far," Kaylie corrects. When it comes to Nicky, her brothers can't help, but tease him. Leo and AJ do it so often Kaylie has found there's no point in being defensive.

Leo turns in his seat so he can look at his sister with a gentle smile. "Do you _looove_ him?"

"Really, Leo?" Kaylie and AJ say at the same time.

The oldest sibling laughs, seeing Kaylie's reddening cheeks. "Wow, she actually is."

"What are you talking about?" Kaylie laughs nervously and stares out the window, trying to pretend her brother isn't being so invasive. "Calling it love might be rushing into it a little, but I haven't felt this way about anyone else _ever_. Honestly, I haven't been so afraid to lose someone in my life."

AJ clears his throat, obviously not enjoying what he's hearing. "Don't set yourself up to get hurt. Kales, you of all people should know better by now."

"Could you be any more cynical?" Leo asks. "Don't listen to him, Kaylie. He's AJ. He's in love with a stripper. Take it from someone who's been there. Sure, life happens. People date and break up. That's the way things are. Don't be entirely shocked if it happens, but don't let the fear of the future stop you from falling in love."

Kaylie thinks over both her brothers' words as AJ starts arguing that he isn't in love ("Leo, only in your most disturbing dreams") and they playfully bicker. The Suburban crawls down a dirt path that AJ says he's been down a million times, but doesn't disclose why. The sun is setting and the sky is a light blue transitioning into purple, an orange glow outlining the horizon with splashes of pink. Once AJ and Leo get all the fireworks out from the back, Kaylie sits there with Amelia in her lap, the two wrapped in blankets to keep warm.

Kaylie watches as her brothers take the fireworks and go a little ways from the car. The first they light up makes a loud whistling noise as it shoots into the air and bursts, exploding with white lights. Amelia jumps and Kaylie wraps her arms around the youngster who's frightened yet mesmerized. Leo and AJ laugh and high-five before firing off the next.

Some time after, when they've lit at least a dozen and still have tons to go, Kaylie realizes how hard she's smiling. Kaylie doesn't feel as lonely anymore and that's so much better than doing homework.

…

Brian Kmetko is smarter than most kids his ages. So much so that he goes to a fancy institute for only the most gifted youth. He was offered a scholarship after winning an academic decathlon. He has chess club meetings twice a week so he misses carpool and Emily rides her bike down to meet him once she gets out.

Emily texts Brian once she gets to his school and sits out front, pulling out her History textbook as she waits. Unlike Marcus, Mrs. March isn't very enthusiastic and talks really slowly, which is understandable considering she's so old she can practically taste retirement. Though Emily sees how dates of wars and battles are important ("they shaped our nation, don't ya know?"), but she's more interested in who had how many mistresses. Basically if historical text read like gossip magazines she'd be so much more into it.

"Emily, when is the last time you did something for you?"

At the sound of her little brother's voice (she's still getting use to how much deeper it's gotten) Emily closes her textbook. Conversation with Brian always trumps reading about the Great Depression.

"Hmm, that's tough." Emily swings her legs, the toes of her worn sneakers grazing the dirt beneath her. "Just last week I treated myself to frozen yogurt."

"That you bought with money you got from collecting all the recycles and empty beer bottles in the apartment and wheeling it down to the recycle center on your bike," Brian says. Emily nods. That's also true. "You do too much. You aren't Superman, you know?"

"Thank you, Aunt May," Emily says, shoving her book back into her bag. "Ready?"

"Just about…but wait!" Brian pulls out a deck of cards and skillfully shuffles them. He then fans them out and tells his sister, "Pick a card, any card." Shouldering her backpacking, Emily decides to entertain him and plucks out a card from the middle of the deck. "Now put it back." Emily does just that. Moving the cards back into a neat pile, Brian does a couple tricks with his hands and then finally picks up the first card on top. "Three of clubs?"

"Go fish," Emily says. "Queen of hearts."

"Damn it."

"You know you're supposed to do more than wave your hands and shuffle the cards around, right?" Emily laughs and starts wheeling her bike as Brian puts the deck of cards away and wheels beside her. "I'm no expert magician, but I think you're actually supposed to do something to make sure that the card I pull and the card you pull are the same one."

"Nah, I assumed if I wave my hands around, looking cool, it'd just magically happen on its own," Brian says with such a happy-go-lucky smile.

"So where did this interest in card tricks come from?" Emily asks as they start to walk home. Brian shrugs. "Catch an episode of Criss Angel maybe?"

"Do you see any guyliner on these eyelids? Nope. Clean. Trust me, Em. You'd know it if I did," he tells her. "I don't know. Just something I've been playing around with during class."

"During class?"

Brian shrugs his shoulders, but Emily makes it clear that isn't a good enough answer. "I get bored easy," he says, "you know that. Advanced placement isn't so advanced and placed me incorrectly. All they want us to do is memorize and spit it back at them."

"That's pretty much what school _is_."

"But not what it's should to be," he counters. "I want to learn things I'll actually care about."

"And that's what college is for," Emily says, "but to get there you need to save the card tricks for lunch and after school and pay attention in class."

Emily continues at her leisurely pace, but Brian stops with a question that makes Emily worry. "Realistically speaking, you think college is even an option for us?"

The poverty line isn't only apparent at school, but everywhere. Everyone knows Laguna constitutes the scum of Boulder. That fact alone makes Emily want to work even harder to break out. It breaks her heart that Brian even has to question that.

"You wait. Come your senior year, probably your junior year, the Ivies are going to be fighting over you," Emily says with such certainty. "I'd place money I don't have on it."

That gets a smile out of him. It's a little strange how the roles have reversed. Usually it's Brian radiating optimism and giving Emily pep talks. This is new and different and makes Emily afraid to find out where Brian's doubt is coming from.

"And what about you?" he asks.

"I probably won't have Harvard or Princeton throwing full rides at me, but hopefully I can get some financial aid and I've started saving," Emily says. "Maybe I'll do a year at the community college, save even more and transfer to university. Don't worry about me. I have options and I have another year to come up with a plan C and even plan Z if I need it."

"It's going to suck without you here."

"I won't be going anywhere anytime soon," Emily assures him, ruffling his dark hair. "Now pick up the pace, Bry. We still have a long way to walk."

The Meadows is one of the most sketchy apartment complexes in Laguna, but they have the benefit of knowing most of the building. There's the Meadows Flasher who hangs out in the lobby from 12 A.M. to 3 A.M. and sometimes in the afternoons, wearing a trench coat and flashing anyone with eyes. Across the hall there's the couple that violently argue and then have loud makeup sex right after. So maybe they don't really _know_ their neighbors, but they know enough to play Which of These Things Is Not Like the Other.

Emily can pick Bruce's rust bucket of a car out of the front parking lot almost too easily. It's a mystery how the car even runs when there's so much wrong with it. On the worst days it doesn't budge, the windows don't roll down and there's a big gaping hole in the bottom covered by duct tape and a rubber mat. It has a (probably bogus) New Mexico license plate and missing hubcaps. Emily would rather die than go anywhere near that deathtrap.

"Em, maybe we should go to the library for a bit or, uh, I don't know, hang out down here?"

"Brian, it's freezing out."

"Emily, we can't go inside."

"Why not?"

"Bruce's car is out front," Brian says.

"And mom's car isn't, which means he shouldn't even be in there," Emily says strongly. "We could call the cops right now—"

"Sh," Brian hushes her, wheeling closer. "You know what the c-word does around here."

Like a full moon to crazies or so the myth goes.

"I'm sorry, but it's true," Emily says as calmly and softly as she can. "Bry, we can't just let Bruce think he can walk all over us. This is our home. It was our home before he came around and it's going to be our home when he leaves." Emily winces, seeing Brian flinch the way he does. It may have been harsh, but deep in her heart, Emily is sure that's the path they're taking. "You stay here or go to the library if you want, but I'm going upstairs."

Emily kicks at the door, trying to get it open and her bike through. She's doing a miserable job until the doors swish open automatically. Brian pushed the button. That's the one worthwhile thing Bruce did. He complained to management about how the building's lack of handicap-accessible necessities. The problem was fixed within the week. No one messes with Bruce. That is, except Emily. More and more every day, Bruce tests Emily's patience. He pushes and pushes and Chloe and Brian let him. Emily can't. If she does she might burst.

After a painfully slow elevator ride, the two get out and Emily marches to their front door.

"Wait! Let me at least call mom first before you go in," Brian says. Emily leans against the side of the wall and stares into the eye painted on the neighbor's door. They didn't even bother to clean it off. God forbid taking the time to paint over it.

"Hey, mom, did you know Bruce was over? No, I'm not calling him dad because he isn't. I don't have a dad."

Emily lets her hand fall on her brother's shoulder, sympathy and rage having an internal struggle for her attention. She knows this is hard for him. Bruce isn't a father figure, but he is Brian's flesh and blood. No matter how awful he is, they're biologically bound for life.

Her back pressed to their front door, Emily hears a crash from inside, strong enough to send shockwaves through the floor and shake the door. Emily can't wait any longer, pulls out her house keys and unlocks the door.

"Em, mom's parking the car right now. Maybe we should—"

Cutting off Brian's sentence is the squeal of the front door when Emily pushes it open with her shoulder. She walks in, completely forgetting her bike. Emily charges down the short hallway to see a bunch of middle age men lounging around their living room. Emily walks into a cloud of smoke that burns her throat when she accidentally breathes in. They're all laughing and drinking in the afternoon, one on the ground in a pile of wood that was once a chair.

"Hey!" Bruce shouts. Emily has done a good job at evading him ever since the hallway incident the other morning. Now there's no chance of dodging a confrontation. "The hell d'you think you're doing here?"

"This is my house. What are you doing here?" She speaks through clenched teeth. Emily Kmetko isn't usually loud or angry, but when it comes to Bruce she feels it surface and spiral out of control. "Get out! All of you!" They stare at her, hardly intimidated and so Emily pulls out her cell phone. "Fine. I'm sure the police will make you leave."

She puts her phone on speaker and loudly dials 9-1-1, pausing before she hits the send button. They all trade looks as if to ask whether they should call her bluff or not. Emily is so enraged it isn't a bluff at all. The men start to leave and Bruce can't believe what he's seeing.

"Fellas, don't listen to her," Bruce tells them. "She won't do it."

"Give me a call when you aren't babysitting, huh, Bruce?" one guy says before walking out with the rest. When the last of his friends leaves, Bruce pops the cap off of another beer bottle. Even when the room clears out, Brian still waits in the hall as if he needs permission to enter his own home.

Emily snaps her flip phone closed and tucks it into the pocket of her cargo pants. Tugging on the voice she uses to scold the kids she tutors, Emily asks, "What's going on here?"

"You ruining things is what," he replies. "Mind your own damn business next time."

Emily firmly puts her foot down. "Get out."

Bruce laughs, plopping down in the faded reclining chair. "What'd yah say, girl?"

"I—I—"

"You what?" His voice too easily stomps out hers. "You wanna finish what you started the other morning?"

"I want you out," Emily says, jittery either from her nerves or her fear. It's too late to back out now. "Ever since you came into our lives everything has been hell! You don't care about my mom or Brian or anything but being a freeloader and a jerk! You don't even have a job. You're a pathetic excuse for a human being."

Bruce snaps and overturns the coffee table with one swoop of his bear paw of a hand. All the chips and beer fly off and rain back down, ending up in crumbles and shattered glass on the ground. Emily flinches away. Who wouldn't? Bruce moves in like a shadow, dark and looming. Emily tries to stand her ground and hide the way she's trembling.

"And you think you're so much better, huh? Why don't you just get the hell gone then?" Bruce spits, _literally spits_ in her face. "Always running yo mouth about yr rich daddy out west. If you hate it so much why don't you just go? You know where the door is."

"I ask myself the same thing every day."

Bruce gets even closer and Emily feels like a helpless child who's fallen into a lion den at the zoo except she didn't accidently fall in. Bruce pushes and Emily pushes back.

"Stop it!" Brian shouts, finally wheeling his way closer. "Both of you!" He only stops when he's somewhat between his sister and father. "If mom walks in and sees you fighting like this—"

"Let her!" Emily shouts. "There's a lot I can take, but not this. Not anymore. _My_ income from _my_ job goes towards our groceries and our bills and you eat _everything_ and you _always_ waste the electricity and the water! You aren't good for anything!"

Bruce slams his half-full beer bottle down against the overturned table's leg. It shatters, the broken neck still in his hand, beer foaming and soaking his thick fingers. He squeezes his hand around the neck until it cracks again, the glass edges cutting through his skin and making him bleed. You wouldn't tell from looking at Bruce, a mask of fury for a face. Brian's hand pulls on Emily's elbow, begging her to back down. She knows she should, but then everything will go back to the way it always is and there is nothing she hates more.

The door clicks open and in the silence it's as loud as thunder. "Brian, we were on the phone! Why did you just hang up on me like that?" Chloe appears in the doorway and gasps at what she sees. "What the heck is going on here?"

Bruce angrily shoves off to the kitchen and throws what's left of his bottle into the sink. Catching a glimpse of the blood, Chloe rushes over to him. "Honey, you're bleeding."

"That's not what's important, Chloe," he glowers and even Chloe looks ready to shield her face. "What pisses me off is yr daughter not knowing how to control 'er mouth! I will not be disrespected in my own house!"

"This isn't your house!" Emily shouts.

"Em."

Bruce is so angry the vein in his neck is ready to break skin. Instead of saying any more, Bruce just grabs his pack of cigarettes from off the end table and stomps to the door.

"Bruce, where are you going?" Chloe shouts after him.

"Out!"

The door slams. Chloe pushes her fake, acrylic nails up through her hairline and looks at the broken furniture, crushed food and empty and broken bottles. "Look at this mess," she mutters, getting down to start cleaning.

Seeing her on her hands and knees cleaning up Bruce's mess makes Emily sick with disappointment. "Mom," Emily says, hoping it will snap Chloe out of whatever mind control Bruce has her under. "You should have seen this place earlier. Bruce and a bunch of his creepy friends drinking and getting high. Mom, don't you smell that? It's him and I finally called him out for it. I'm the only one who calls him out for anything and he flipped. Bruce is a psycho!"

"Emily…"

"Don't. Don't look at me like I'm the problem," she says, starting to feel the tears burn her eyes. "It's Bruce."

Chloe climbs to her feet with a hand of glass pieces that she then takes to the trashcan. She won't make eye contact, but Emily doesn't know why Chloe holds back, why she insists on giving this guy reign over their lives. "I just don't understand why you provoke him, Emily."

"Mom, are we looking at the same person?" Emily yells. She cares little if the neighbors hear and with the volume of her voice, they probably do. "Bruce makes all of us miserable!"

"That's no way to talk about your brother's daddy," Chloe insists. "I'm sure if you tried, you and Bruce could learn to get along. Emily, I know he isn't Davy—"

"No! This has nothing to do with dad!" Emily shouts. At this point it's like yelling at stone statues. "Oh, my God, mom. Bruce doesn't even notice Brian half the time! Brian doesn't even like him! My brain cannot begin to comprehend what you see in him."

"Emily, how can you even say that?" Chloe appears exhausted, almost sickly, far from their fun loving, carefree mom.

"Em," Brian whispers. "Back off."

Ready to explode, Emily can't take anymore, especially when her brother won't even back her up. "I can't do this," Emily says, softer, tired of fighting a losing battle. "You can live in denial all you want, but I can't." Emily heads towards the door.

"And where do you think you're going, Emily?"

"Em!" Brian shouts after her.

Not even bothering to give them an explanation, Emily figures she can go to the library for an hour or two to cool off. Surprisingly, her bike is right where she left it outside their apartment. As childish as it may be Emily slams the front door as hard as she can, sending one last message. She's ready to take off when a jolt passes through her. The boy in the red beanie is outside his own front door, watching her.

Emily knows she's a mess and he could hear why through the paper-thin, crumbling walls. She wants to say something, ashamed of what he probably overheard. Before she can, Mr. Red Beanie twists the doorknob to his own apartment, pushes it open enough for Emily to hear a child wailing inside while a man and woman engage in a back and forth screaming match.

That's the thing about the people of Laguna. The rest of Boulder knows it as the place where drug dealers and lowlifes congregate and that's true, but there's more to it. The thing about living in Laguna is that the people around you understand what you're going through because they're going through the exact same thing.

They haven't spoken a single word and already Emily feels like he gets her.

...

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Note<strong>: Hey, everyone! Now, we getting to see Max through Lauren's lens, make contact with Faith, find out that Mark and Kim have matching awesome and the Cruz familia is slowly starting to reunite while the Kmetko household slowly falls apart.

**Review**.

#WeFaB #LLD2 #LLDforever


	6. And We Ache and We Break and We Try

**Warning: **Hold on to your hearts, lovers. Someone's must break.

* * *

><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

Kaylie's house has been appropriately renamed the Cruz Castle.

Alex Cruz was young and ambitious when he signed his first contract with a Major League team. His first project was building his dream house with the best architects money could buy. It took two years to finish the giant castle of a home complete with secret passageways. In their adolescent years AJ, Leo and Kaylie would explore and show off the house's many secrets to their friends, playing some memorable games of hide and seek.

"This is insane." Nicky follows Kaylie down a passageway that starts at the back of the second floor closet and ends up in the downstairs laundry room. "Must make it easy to sneak out."

"Not like sneaking out is hard to begin with," Kaylie says. "It does make it fun though."

Kaylie leads the way as they weave between the different rooms in the house. When Nicky wraps his arm around her waist and his lips brush her temple, Kaylie feels a jolt. There's something strangely romantic about the way they're in this small, dark and _hot_ space. Kaylie guides him closer and feels how he's caught off guard. It's too dark to make out every detail of his face. Nicky doesn't push her away so Kaylie doesn't stop, bringing her lips to his.

She has him and wants to take it further, solidity this relationship they've been cultivating for half a year now, to make it real. Kaylie grips and tugs, kissing him so hard neither of them can even take a breath. She guides his hands up her body and desperately ignores the way he lets his hesitation get the best of him, questioning her sudden spontaneity.

There's zero space between them in such a narrow area. With the lack of room and oxygen, the heat turns spontaneity to suffocation. They both feel the claustrophobia, dizzying and feverish. Hands and tongue and hips all moving, moving, moving, but then Nicky slowly becomes so still. Kaylie wants this—_wants him_—but he seems to be fighting a reaction like he doesn't want this—_her_.

Nicky pulls away and loudly inhales. His delay only gives rise to her insecurities. So many times Kaylie wishes she could just be done with it, banish all doubt and self-consciousness, but she can't. Her insecurities are as much apart of her as her fingers and toes.

Desperate to retain the moment, the energy between them, Kaylie kisses him again, wanting to get lost in him and wanting to let him know it's okay to get lost in her. She knows he holds back for some reason he won't talk about. She presses against him, his back against the wall and the end of his shirt rising and rising with the effort of her hands pushing and pushing.

Her hands start to move lower and lower and Kaylie feels him move away. He stops kissing back and she isn't sure what's going on. Even with the lack of light, their eyes somewhat adjust and Kaylie wears her questions on her face. Nicky's stoic expression does nothing to sooth her anxiety.

They drop the ball. The play is dead. Kaylie for the life of her doesn't understand why.

"Is it me?" she whispers. Her voice wavers when she asks and Nicky moves his hands to her arms as if to somehow reassure her when he can't form the words. "What am I doing wrong?"

Before Nicky can stutter a single syllable, there's a vibration between them, but not the type Kaylie had been hoping for. She digs into her pocket and finds her phone, the screen shedding light on both their sweat-glazed, fearful faces.

"Answer it," Nicky says.

Kaylie turns away from him and holds the phone to her ear. "What, AJ?"

"Whoa, Kaylie mad. Kaylie smash!" AJ says, just to be annoying. Kaylie pulls away from Nicky as she talks to her brother, giving her boyfriend the moment he needs to pull together. "I need to pick up Shauna from the airport. Do you think you could keep an eye on your niece?"

"I'm with Nicky," she replies.

"Aren't you home?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I didn't interrupt the foreplay, did I?" AJ asks. "Damn me and my amazing timing."

"I'm hanging up now."

"Kales, please?"

"Fine. I'll be right down." She ends the call and shoves her phone back into her pocket. Honestly, she's glad for the distraction. It'll give her some time to sort through her racing thoughts before having to confront Nicky about it. Without facing him, she explains, "AJ's going out and I, um, have to watch Amelia so…let's go."

"Kaylie," Nicky says gently. "There's nothing wrong with you."

She doesn't expect him to give her an in-depth analysis because Nicky never does. He probably could if they were talking about something scientific, explained with figures and facts, but not feelings. Instead of letting herself dwell, Kaylie takes his hand and leads him the rest of the way, down the spiral stairs and out through the panel in the laundry room. Once they're back in the light, Kaylie lets go of Nicky's hand and goes ahead without him.

"Finally," AJ says, "and why are you so sweaty?" He sees Nicky trailing behind Kaylie, looking just as sweaty and maybe a little sick. "Never mind. I don't want to know." AJ hoists Amelia up and hands her over to Kaylie. "Baby girl is all yours. Melia, give Aunty Kaylie hell."

AJ lovingly kisses his daughter, snatches his keys off the table and walks out the door.

"I love how your brother still doesn't acknowledge I exist," Nicky says. Kaylie doesn't answer, instead taking Amelia over to the den where a mat is spread out on the ground with an assortment of her toys. Nicky follows. "And apparently you're ignoring me too. Kaylieee."

"What was that back there?" she asks sharply.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Nicky says defensively. "One minute you're showing me the cool, secret passages in your house and the next you like…you know."

"Attack you?"

"Pretty much." Kaylie looks so embarrassed and Nicky goes over and sits close to her. "Kaylie, fine. Let's talk." He touches her shoulder and moves his arm around her neck, his skin dusted with perspiration, gliding across hers, creating even more friction between them.

"I know it was stupid. I just…we've been going out for almost seven months now. I just thought…"

"Hey," Nicky says tenderly. He rubs his hand back and forth across her shoulders. She loves his touch, how his fingers are calloused and rough so he makes an extra effort to touch her as gently as possible. "Not in front of your niece."

There he goes again. Evading the conversation.

"Nicky."

The next second he leaves her completely and Kaylie's afraid he's just going to disappear without warning, feeling the start of another fight. Instead, Kaylie watches Nicky move across the room, running his fingers across the cover of Ronnie's grand piano. Nicky sits at the bench and flips the cover. He expertly positions his fingers over the keys and starts to play.

Kaylie brings Amelia into her arms and goes over to the piano where her boyfriend is situated. Nicky is so focused; fingers swiftly travel the keys, creating such sweet music that floats to the high ceiling. He plays with such precision, like he doesn't even have to think about what comes after what. His fingers just move to where they're supposed to be, effortlessly.

Nicky told her once that he learned when he was younger and took Beginning Band as an elective his freshman year, but she's never actually heard him play. He doesn't have a piano at his house, not that Kaylie knows of, and usually when they're at hers, they're either in her room, doing homework or hanging out. This is new.

When he finishes, Kaylie gently takes Amelia's wrists to make her clap her little hands. "Wow, I didn't know you could play like that."

"My, um, mom taught piano. She used to call me her little protégé." Nicky lets his fingers dance across the keys again, just one hand, playing softly. "When she passed away, my dad would get upset just seeing a piano. Forget hearing it. He donated our to the church, didn't even talk to me about it first and I swear I didn't talk to him for a whole month after."

"Weren't you like eight? If you didn't have a piano, how did you get so good?"

Nicky smiles at the pictures in his head, memories he can't fully convey. "Faith. Typical Faith, she puts her everything into something she wants and burns out in a couple weeks. Her dad just bought her this beautiful satin Baldwin and she gave it to me, but we kept it at her place. I was over there a lot anyways so I'd practice."

"Then when you moved here?"

"I sneak into the auditorium and play at lunch or after school. Sometimes at the mall." Nicky laughs. "If Kelly was going to drag me through every stupid girl store then we were spending at least an hour in the music store, 'testing' pianos. Then for my thirteenth birthday Kelly bought me this gorgeous digital Clavinova. It's at her house…assuming she hasn't sold it or chopped it up into firewood by now."

"You miss them, don't you?"

Nicky won't verbally admit it, but Kaylie knows he worries even though they're both out, living their lives. He puts them first and they put themselves first. Nicky probably doesn't even come in second to them. Kaylie is right in front of him, begging for half as much of his attention. She never says anything because she knows Nicky will just get angry and defend his friends.

"Here. I think your dad would like this." With his two hands on the keys, Nicky plays "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" and Kaylie laughs. When she notices Amelia rubbing her eyes, Kaylie asks Nicky to hold her (AJ would go postal if he knew, but Kaylie doesn't care) and she goes to get a bottle from the kitchen.

When she comes back into the room, Nicky is on the couch with a tired Amelia, letting her tiny fingers scratch at the bracelet tattoo on his wrist as if she could remove it with the gentlest of scratches. Oh, if only it were that easy. Kaylie can't look at it without thinking of Kelly Parker and she's willing to bet Nicky feels the same.

Kaylie pulls Amelia into her lap and gives her the bottle. AJ lucked out with how calm Amelia is. If you wake her up before she's ready then all hell breaks loose and she will cry for an hour straight, but aside from designated crazy hours, where she attempts to tear the house apart (6 to 7 p.m.) Amelia is relatively behaved. Seeing Amelia start to fall asleep, Kaylie softly sings in Spanish. She doesn't even realize she's doing it until Nicky laughs.

He translates, "Kitchen. Chair. Bread. Tomatoes. Spoon. Fork. Chicken… Hmm, I don't know that song."

"It's the first Spanish I learned," Kaylie says. "From Eron in the kitchen… just in song form."

"I think it's cute." Nicky leans over and kisses her. It's nice and simple and there's no attacking, just lip-to-lip contact. No tongue. He pulls away only to kiss her again on the cheek and lies back against the couch.

When Amelia fully falls asleep, Kaylie slowly maneuvers out from under her and carefully lays the sleeping, miniature human on one end of the couch. She then crawls to the other side where Nicky is half-asleep himself. Kaylie fits into his side and his arm curls around her. Everything is so quiet and peaceful as if their little miscommunication earlier never happened.

Moments like this make Kaylie think that it's okay to hold off on sex. If they can be this content then the social pressure shouldn't matter. It's like what Lauren told her the other day, about how she's lucky to have a boyfriend like Nicky, who isn't in it for the sex, but for _her_.

Most times her obsessive personality gets in the way. Kaylie has to know the truth and she'll go to great lengths to find it. She can't block out those pesky voices in head, the ones that wonder why Nicky keeps their relationship at a tortoise-pace.

For now she won't push. Pushing Nicky for answers means pushing him to the door. Now she just close her eyes and feel him next to hers, the rise and fall of his chest with every breath, and tell herself that this is good for now.

_Click. Click. Flash. Flash. _

Kaylie wakes up to flashing lights and laughter. She sits up, stirring Nicky who makes a low, rough sound at the base of his throat and moves his arm from around her in favor of rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"What's going on?" Kaylie murmurs.

"Damn! Did we wake you?"

Of course, it's AJ. Who else?

He has his phone pointed at them. Next to him is Shauna Donovan, Amelia's mother. She's Maxim centerfold hot, athletically built with legs that go on and on, sun kissed skin and hair that's a happy medium between brown and blonde. It hasn't been that long since she graduated from Taft, but she seems like a different person. It only makes sense that having a baby would do that.

"What a beautiful couple," AJ teases. "This shot right here is for the Kaylie _Loves_ Nicky scrapbooks she hides at the back of her closet. Bro, I swear she saved a napkin from your first date and a lock of your hair. Aw, this pic, Kaylie with just the perfect amount of drool down her chin and neck. Kodak moment."

"AJ, shut up. You're embarrassing her." From the two times Shauna has visited with AJ and Amelia, Kaylie and her have been friendly enough. Back in high school, Shauna wouldn't be caught dead socializing with one of Darby's "coattail cling-ons" but now she isn't bad company. "Kaylie, who's your friend?"

"Shauna, this is Nicky," Kaylie says, laying a hand on his chest. "My boyfriend."

"The one I told you about, remember," AJ whispers loudly. Nicky is nervous, as still as stone.

"Oh. _That one_," Shauna says with a knowing smile. Now Nicky isn't just nervous, he's petrified. "As long as you two are being safe because we all know what happens otherwise." Shauna motions to her sleeping daughter and then roughly shoves AJ. "I still can't believe I let you screw me and screw me over for nine months after that."

"What?" AJ plays innocent. "I would've rubbered up if you told me to."

"If I told you to? Do you hear this guy? And he wonders why I turn him down every time he's drunk and proposes?" Shauna swats AJ's shoulder and he smirks in return. "Remember, safe sex is the best sex."

AJ shakes his head no. "That's the biggest lie of our generation."

"_Alexander_, you douche," Shauna says quickly. "Aren't you supposed to be Mr. PSA?"

"The Amelia Grace Foundation doesn't go around advertising lies about sex. We keep young adults informed, telling them the stuff their parents neglect to out of embarrassment and what schools suck at teaching. Then for girls who find out unprotected sex is awesome sex that leads to babies, we give em' a hand when no one else will."

Shauna shakes her head. "He goes from douche bag to Superman so fast I don't even know what to think."

"Now you know my life," Kaylie says.

Despite the rude awakening, Kaylie enjoys having another girl in the house to gang up on AJ with. They talk a while longer and Nicky barely gets a word in, but he holds Kaylie's hand the entire time. When this starts to feel too Awkward Double Date, AJ bullies Nicky, playing on his social anxiety until he makes an excuse to leave. As he kisses her goodbye, Kaylie wants to think they'll be okay, but if she's honest with herself, she's completely in the dark.

…

AJ. AJ. AJ. AJ.

Lauren can't really think of anything, but. She tries to distract herself with other things like gossip and Twitter, but her mind always drifts back to the black sheep in the Cruz family.

Throughout every single one of her classes, Lauren didn't crack a book or take a single note. Hell, she didn't even bring the right books to the right classes, but even if she did, it isn't like she'd put them to use. Admittedly, Lauren never really takes notes anyways. Usually she just gets Emily to give her the rundown right before test day. Or she wears a skirt and writes hints on her thighs, but that's only a last resort.

She spends a lot of class time thinking about the last time she saw AJ in person. Right before sunset, as the heat started to tamper down to make way for night, the day before he made the move to Palm Springs. AJ played it cool like he wasn't moving to a different state in the morning and in turn Lauren acted as if she wasn't going to miss him. They watched _Sixteen Candles_ and he made them grilled cheese sandwiches. She knows nothing would have stopped him from leaving so it didn't even cross her mind to try.

"Your photos are crap."

Hearing that, Lauren wakes up for what might be the first time today. "Excuse you?"

Lauren stands behind Max who's sitting at one of the computers in the newsroom. He has her dinosaur of a digital camera connected, going through the photos she took. Lauren tries to remember if she might have absentmindedly told him she took those pictures ten minutes before coming into the newsroom, because she did.

"Do I really need to explain?" Max clicks to the next photo and it's of Ike laughing with half a PB&J sandwich in his hand and the other half reduced to mush in his open mouth. Max swings his chair around to face her. Whether she told him or not, Max can guess.

"It's not like you have to use my pictures."

"No, but since you're forced to be here you might as well learn something. An appreciation for the arts isn't a bad thing." Max disconnects the camera and hands it to Lauren. "Photography 101. Lesson one. Field trip time."

"Field trip?" she repeats. "As in outside the newsroom where people will see us _together_?"

"Afraid being seen with me is bad for your reputation?"

"The opposite, actually," Lauren corrects him. "I don't want your _girlfriend_ getting the wrong idea and taking it out on me. I don't have time for drama."

"So you think because she stole your best friend she'd assume you were trying to steal her boyfriend," Max says. "You're more like Maeve than you want to believe. She has crazy girl world conspiracy theories too."

"That's why I did away with the popularity and girl world conspiracy theories," Lauren says loftily. "There's less paranoia when you're no one. Surprisingly, it's less lonely too."

Max looks at her, but Lauren doesn't look back. She doesn't need to see him to know he thinks they're having a moment when they're not. He thinks he sees a flash of her deeply buried vulnerability, her hurt over the fall, but he's wrong. She's better off and knows it.

"So we're going somewhere?"

"Yeah," Max says. "Follow me."

Lauren walks with Max out to the quad. Just the fact that Lauren Tanner and Max Spencer are communicating in public draws attention. Max acts like he doesn't notice, but Lauren has her armor assembled. He turns out to be a great instructor, patient and kind, showing her proper settings and how to utilize natural light. His passion is infectious and he gets Lauren to forget the looks and people whispering about them. When the bell rings it pulls her back to reality.

"Why don't we meet in the newsroom after school and see how these came out?"

Lauren stops in place when it starts to feels like he's walking her to class. "Thanks, but no thanks. Matsui didn't say anything about overtime. I'll see you tomorrow at lunch, Paparazzi."

Instead of getting upset, Max says "okay" and goes off in the opposite direction. Staring at his retreating figure, Lauren reminds herself that Max Spencer is Maeve Benson property. She won't go there even if she's tempted to. Kaylie would undoubtedly flip out.

Once school is out, Lauren checks if Emily needs a ride, but she rode her bike to school and has work anyways. After, Lauren doesn't even bother going to her locker and races home instead. She has a video chat date with Razor, which is exactly what she needs right now. The Tanner house is quiet and empty. The maids are done for the day and left the house in perfect, pristine condition, just the way Steve expects it to be. The temperature is warm and comfortable and Lauren sheds her thick coat once the front door is locked behind her.

While she waits for Razor to text her (and later she'll pretend she wasn't waiting) Lauren decides to touches up her make up and applies a new layer of gloss to her lips. She looks around her room and realizes what a mess it is. That's the one area of the house the maids don't touch. If AJ, Mr. OCD, were here he'd tease that her room is such a mess she wouldn't be able to tell if the maids were stealing her stuff.

There she goes again thinking about him. Damn it.

Lauren gave up on AJ a long time ago. She did. He's going in one direction and she's going in another. That's just how life played out and it's no one's fault. So why can't she stop thinking about him? Lauren is so deep in thought she almost misses her phone buzzing on her vanity.

"Lauren, oh Lauren," Razor says once she accepts the invitation to video chat. "Every time I see you I get this feeling, oh, so foreign, diving, striving, reviving. Oh, Lauren, hello."

Razor is officially the hottest goofball _ever_.

Lauren presses her lips together, pretending she isn't into it. "How long did it take you to come up with that one?"

"You know this stuff sort of just comes to me." Razor taps his temple. "And you should also note how hard your name is to rhyme with."

"Yes, I caught that. Points for creativity, but a deduction for lameness. _Foreign_?" She makes a face that gets him to grin and then suddenly she's grinning along with him.

"Right, I should get to work on that, elevate it to full pick-Lo-up."

"I'm fine, but you would not believe the week I've had!" Lauren brings her laptop with her and flops down onto her bed. "Operation Soul Skater was almost flawless, minus the full on girl fight that followed, getting sent to the principal's office and exiled from the cheer squad."

"Acceptance of what happened is the first step to overcoming the consequences of any misfortune. William James," Razor says. "Did you not get my text this a.m.? You didn't reply…"

He looks so sad as his voice softens towards the end. Razor Sheppard is one of the few people on this earth who can actually make Lauren feel bad.

"Right. Sorry," Lauren says quickly. "I've been a little distracted."

"What's on your mind?"

"Didn't you just hear my list of misfortunes?" s

"Yes, and it was a lengthy list, but that isn't all. There's something else…"

Lauren sighs. AJ is the first thing that comes to mind, but isn't the only thing bugging her.

"It's Kaylie. She has other friends now and sometimes it feels like she's picking fights with me so she has a reason to ditch me for them. Get this, she's mad at me, right? Then when she needs something she tells me how much she loves me and plays the best friends forever card like I don't know I'm being used."

"Not cool."

"Thank you," Lauren says. "Em gives Kaylie the benefit of the doubt and makes excuses for her and Payson doesn't have to sit and watch Kaylie and the popular kids strut around day after day, thinking they're god's gift to Boulder. _And_ I can't believe I'm turning into one of those losers who bitch about the popular kids."

"Colorado Barbie, you are not a loser. Other than that, I don't know what else to tell you. I'm not an expert on friend drama. My best friend disappeared off the face of the planet. No e-mail, text, not even carrier pigeon telegram."

"The second you know anything about Damon, you're obligated to tell me," Lauren orders. "He is on my shit list. Not even you or Emily can stop me. I'm taking him down."

Razor laughs and Lauren doesn't appreciate it.

"I'm sorry," he says, "it's just too easy to picture in my head. You, cute adorable yet at times frightening you, trying to take down Damon, hitting him with his Gibson, kicking him with your scary Lady Gaga spiked heels. It's amazing. I'd definitely place my trust fund on you."

"How sweet, babe," Lauren says, every syllable equal parts sarcastic and flirtatious.

"You're welcome, baby."

It annoys her only slightly, knowing Razor's joking and how it makes her feel like a joke, but then he smiles. Anyone else, AJ included, and she would go into defensive bitch mode, but never with Razor. He's the one who kept her on her feet when she's feeling down.

"If it's any consolation, Lo, I'm sure you'll work things out with Kaylie."

"Like you're going to work things out with Damon? Even after he's been gone?"

"For sure. We call each other out when someone fucks up and get pissed at each other about stuff, but that's how we show we care. If we weren't annoyingly real with each other all the time we'd be bad friends. I make it a point to spam Damon's Twitter with 'bitch, you better not miss my graduation!' a couple dozen times a day."

"If only you had the same dedication for a girl as you do for Damon." When Razor doesn't take the hint, she goes on, "So are you and the Ex back together yet?"

"What's with you Colorado girls? Is my relationship status all you think about? Emily opens every conversation asking about Jody. Not that I'm deliberately changing the subject even though it is a great time to change the subject, I've been meaning to talk to you about Em."

That's one thing Lauren loves about Razor. He cares about Emily just as much as she does.

"She's still not doing good and it's all Damon's fault," Lauren says. "I keep telling her to move on, but it's like she can't. Truthfully, I don't think she wants to. She keeps busy, working and tutoring and school stuff. I don't mean to brag, but I'm currently the wind beneath her wings."

"Lauren Tanner, getting poetic on me. You're a good friend. Emily's lucky to have you." Lauren stops picking at her nails and stares thoughtfully at Razor. "Uh, did I say something wrong?"

"No. It's just, usually when people say that it's about Emily or Payson, sometimes Kaylie, and how lucky I am to have such good friends. No one has ever told me that _I'm_ a good friend."

"Well, I just did," he says, showing off those pearly white teeth. "And hell yeah I meant it. I can tell. I don't have to worry too much because Em is in good hands."

"Good. Now, that we're clear on Emily. Back to your ex."

"Jody is still my ex." Razor shrugs and Lauren notices that he's wearing a black wife beater, showing off his insanely broad shoulders and yummy, prominent collarbone. It proves to be more than distracting. "We float. We talk about Emily and Damon sometimes."

"And you got drunk and hooked up at Mason Patterson's party last weekend," she guesses.

"Caleb Turner's birthday party, actually. We kissed _briefly_, not remotely sexy, and I believe the words that came out of her mouth were, 'I regretted that almost immediately' before she ran off. Nothing more since."

Lauren hopes the stabbing feeling she gets doesn't show in her expression.

"Not like you have to explain yourself to me or anything."

"Uh-huh," he says, unconvinced. "Like I said, friends call each other out on their shit, especially of the romantic variety."

Lauren is ready to explore this further when shouting from his end of the chat distracts her. One voice belongs to a man, the other a woman and they both sound angry. Razor disappears for a moment, shuts his door and muffles the argument outside. He puts on music, letting it play softly in the background. Once back on her screen, Razor apologizes immediately.

"People fight. Nothing new," she says, trying to make him feel better. "Do they do that a lot?"

"More and more lately. Work sucks and you've seen my mom at her most manic. She isn't the easiest to deal with. I give Dave props and I know he's a good guy, but hearing him yell at her sucks too. Even Henley hates it. I know this goes against the girl world rulebook, but don't tell Em, okay? I'm sure Dave will get through the company merger and things will cool down. I don't want Emily freaking out over nothing."

"Yeah, I'm sure she has enough to deal with right now," she says. "Anyways, I have a little pick-Ray-up for you." Lauren goes to lock her bedroom door to prevent any awkward intrusions. Steve is already upset with her, walking in and seeing what she's about to do will probably give him a stroke. "Did I mention I'm throwing a party this weekend?"

Razor laughs, running his palms down his face. "I don't know, Lauren. You and parties…"

"I know. Parties and me have the whole love-hate Ronnie-Sam bad things happen when we're drunk relationship. And trust me, if I had it my way, I'd spend this weekend with whatever fab marathon is on Bravo, but Kaylie practically begged me so I can't say no."

"So long as you don't get really drunk and kiss a kid just for AJ Cruz to come in with a bomb of radioactive angst strapped to his chest and self-destruct right in the middle," Razor says. "As long as you refrain from repeating that specific moment in our shared history then I think your party should be great."

"It didn't even cross my mind to pull that again," Lauren assures him. "Only on you."

"Aw," Razor coos. "So how is bragging about your party supposed to make me feel better?"

"I know you can't be there, but you can help me choose an outfit for the occasion."

As Lauren takes her laptop and walks down the clear path that goes from the foot of her bed to the walk-in closet, she thinks about the top three boys she finds herself currently drawn to and realizes their one shared trait—how much they care about their appearances. AJ thinks he's the Spanish-Latino Chuck Bass, Razor spends more time on his hair than Lauren does and Max Spencer only wears the latest in men's fashion. Metrosexuals. The whole lot of 'em.

With her laptop and Razor in tow, Lauren goes into her closet that was once a separate, smaller bedroom. For Lauren's thirteenth birthday her dad had it converted into giant closet. The walls are lined with shelves, dresser drawers and racks of clothes. There's even a small leather chair in the center, where her friends sit while they help her figure out what to wear.

"_Damn_. Henley would _trip_ over your chick cave."

"Except I don't think we have the same taste in clothes." Lauren pushes around some pieces of jewelry on one of the dressers and sets her laptop down. "Does your sister still dress like one of those creepy old school collector's item dolls?"

"Yes, she does, calls it _vintage_, but clothes are clothes, right?"

"Oh, Razor. I have so much to teach you." Lauren walks circles around her closet, trying to pick out a few potential choices. As she searches, Lauren can hear Razor strumming his acoustic guitar, doing a little impromptu freestyle. There's something so comforting about his presence, his voice, even when he's singing nonsense about Spiderman. Lauren finds it charming that he can be himself around her and lets her be herself in front of him.

"Okay, I like this one, this one and this one." One at a time Lauren holds up each dress in front of her, pressed to her body to illustrate. "What do you think?"

"I think I need to see you try them on," he says. Lauren gives him a _nice move, buddy_ expression. "What? I need the full effect."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

A devilish smirk accompanies her devilish idea. Lauren stays in front of her laptop and pulls her shirt off over her head, wearing a downright sexy lace bra underneath. She lets her top fall to the ground and reaches for the waistband of her skinny jeans. Is there a sexy way of taking off skinny jeans? Lauren will be damned if she doesn't try. Once Lauren gets her jeans off and kicks them aside, in matching lace panties, she leans over the laptop to give him a great cleavage shot. Maybe she is a whore, but at least she has fun with it.

"Which first?" Lauren asks, aware she sounds dumb, but it's Razor. No judgment, just fun.

His face is too much, forgetting about his guitar and just stares at her with his chin dropped to his throat, between _I can't believe this is happening_ and _Oh, My God this is really happening!_

"What's wrong, Ray?" Lauren wants to freeze his face in this moment forever to keep for bad days when she needs something to cheer her up. Whenever Nicky Russo goes into gawking dork mode Lauren finds it beyond annoying, but Razor works it. "_Aw_."

When he snaps out of it, Razor rubs his face, knowing it's undeniable how this is the best pick-me-up ever. "Lauren Tanner, you are officially the biggest tease in the history of teasing."

"Shut up. You know you feel better," Lauren says. "Now, which dress should I try on first?"

"The black one."

"My LF silk a.k.a the little black dress," Lauren announces. It's straight cut, soft and thin. She slips it on and straightens it down her body, a perfect fit. "I'll probably cinch it with a belt. I'm thinking black suede on black silk and most likely wedges. Opinion?"

"Taking a mental picture…now," Razor says, making his own camera sound effects. "Next?"

Lauren takes off the silk dress and carefully tosses it onto a nearby chair. She goes for the next. A vibrant, crimson Elizabeth and James Heather cross front dress that's cute and fun with gorgeous leather detailing. Lauren spins when wearing it, almost giggling at how girly she feels. "Cute, right? With gold accessories and pumps."

"I can dig it." Razor's practically drooling and not one bit ashamed.

Last, but not least is a Therese Rawsthorne dress, white and loose and moves great with her body. Like the last two, the edge of the dress barely passes her thighs, exposing a good amount of legs. Lauren shifts from side to side, her gaze moving between the full-length mirror and Razor. "Probably platforms with this, minimal accessories."

"You're gonna kill your feet at this party."

"Fashion is the only art worth dying for," she replies. "And you can quote me on that."

"I like the red one. It's bright and loud and _you_," Razor says, "but you and I both know you'll look amazing in whatever you wear…or don't wear."

As he says this, Lauren notices how he's staring at her, longing but not lustful. She feels the sudden urge to tell him how much she wishes he was in Colorado and if he were, she would have wanted him to take off her clothes for her. They could play doctor instead of dress up. Razor is so good and honest. He makes her want to be just as good and honest. He makes her feel like they could be good, honest people together. Before Lauren gets the chance, her phone vibrates against the dresser.

A text from her dad: _Family meeting downstairs. Now. _

"Being summoned by Dictator Dad." Lauren sighs. "It won't take long."

"I should start homework anyways," Razor says, "but I'll be here when you get back."

He says homework, but Lauren hears Razor strumming his guitar, singing Matt Nathanson's "Modern Love." She smiles and changes into a nearby pair of shorts and a tank top before she heading downstairs. When she gets there, Lauren sees Steve isn't alone.

"Darby?"

Darby Conrad (not to be confused with Cowboy Conrad Cooper) was once a gymnast who trained at the Rock. That's where she met the Four and acted as a big sister to them. For Darby, gymnastics was never about going to the Olympics, just something she loved to do. When Lauren and Kaylie started their freshmen year at Taft, Darby was already a senior and a popular one. She took them under her wing and ushered them straight into the Royal world.

"Dar!" Lauren squeals excitedly. "Oh, my God! What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you! Duh!" Darby replies with a Valley Girl twang. She's slim with long arms that wraps around Lauren in a hug. When Darby started at CU Boulder, she took Lauren, Kaylie and Emily to their first frat party and introduced Lauren to the Boulder Boozers.

"I ran into Darby in town," Steve explains. "We started catching up, she said she hasn't seen you in a long time and so I invited her over for dinner."

Hitting on her friend's mom is one thing, but hitting on her friend? Really? Lauren would verbally call him out on this if she weren't already walking on thin ice.

"Your dad was telling me about an upcoming business and he seemed a little iffy about leaving you alone so I volunteered to drop by and check on you, even have a sleepover for ol' time's sake, make sure you aren't doing anything bad while he's out of town."

"And I agreed. Maybe a good, strong female role model is just what you need," Steve says. "I was originally going to have Ronnie and Kaylie stop by to keep an eye on you, but she sounds swamped with work and Darby volunteered."

Steve's phone rings and he doesn't hesitate to check it. "I've gotta take this."

"We'll just be here, catching up," Darby says. When Steve leaves the room, Darby's sugary sweet mask dissolves. "So there's this guy who owes me a favor and I can get a few kegs out here free of charge. Quality stuff too."

"What are you talking about?" Lauren asks cautiously. It could be Steve already testing her.

Darby glances down the hall, where Steve walked away. She quietly replies, "The p-a-r-t-y. Oh, don't think we aren't throwing the hottest Boulder Boozer Bash of the New Year since I'm babysitting and all. It's your call, baby. When is this thing going down?"

Lauren smiles evilly. Why does it feel so good to be so bad?

…

Emily has been over to Ike Benzinger's house a total of three times.

The first time had been earlier in the school year before Lauren got her car, when they were still getting Ike to chauffer them around. Lauren set up a prank on Alison where they customized a license plate to say VAGLUVR and switched it out with Alison's. They had to go to Littleton to pick it up from a guy Ike knew. Halfway there they realize Ike had been driving without a license and turned around to get it.

The second, Ike called on Emily for a favor. He needed to "take care of something" and there was no one to keep an eye on his siblings, Bobby and Marnie. His parents leave for a couple weeks at a time without explanation so they're Ike's responsibility. That evening, Emily discovered Bobby was getting beat up at school and Marnie was dyslexic.

The third time it's school related.

"You should probably bring your bike inside. The neighborhood kids are dicks," Ike explains. "My skateboard got tapped with those stupid eyes. Once I left a sandwich on the hood of my car, went to grab my wallet inside, came out and the sandwich was gone."

"Tragic," Emily says, looking around. "They could have taken anything, but your sandwich?"

"Thanks. At least someone understands," Ike says, missing the sarcasm completely. "So this is weird. You came all the way out here on your bike just to help me with homework. Admit it. The only reason you're doing this right now is because _Marcus_ asked you to and _Marcus_' old man milkshake brings all the lovesick, underage girls to the yard."

"He could probably teach you, but he'd have to charge," Emily adds with a smile. "I'm not doing this just because Marcus asked me to. I'm doing this because it would suck to save your math grade just to have your English grade plummet and you flunk out anyways. Plus, home is the last place I want to be right now."

"Understandable."

"Now where's that paper? I can read it, make suggestions and give it back to you tomorrow."

"It's around here somewhere…"

Ike goes to searching for his essay and Emily continues to look around his house. It's small, a single floor, with two bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room. The walls are papered pale green, peeling at the ends. The kitchen is a mess with dishes pilled high in the sink and empty boxes of cereal and junk food wrappers everywhere. The furniture is dated and moldy. It looks almost unlivable yet Ike is raising two middle school kids in it.

"Where are Bobby and Marnie?"

"Bobs has soccer and Marnie goes to that after school program where they help her read and stuff. I have ten minutes before I have to pick them up. Lauren ditched us and it doesn't sound like she'll be scheming anytime soon so I have a little free time to do homework."

Emily really should get paid for how much she helps him.

"Want to come with?" Ike asks. "We can throw your bike in the back and you can tell me how horrible my paper is on the drive."

Emily mulls it over. "I have work in an hour."

"Perfect. Then I can swing by the Pizza Shack and grab dinner for the kids. Killing two birds with one stone. With you there it'll get the monkeys off my back for a while."

Emily agrees and Ike volunteers to get her bike into the back of his pick-up truck. Emily looks back at his house, originally blue, but faded to a powder gray. It's as rickety as all the other houses in the neighborhood, stray dogs and cats wandering, digging through the garbage bags piled on the curb. Laguna screams out for help, but no one calls back.

The middle school is as unimpressive as the rest of Laguna. Graffiti is everywhere, but nothing like _the eyes_. It doesn't make a statement. It doesn't make you feel. It's just ugly. The soccer fields haven't been watered or maintained, leaving grass brown and brittle. Everywhere you look is downright depressing. Emily distracts herself with Ike's horrible essay.

"There are these handy grammatical miracles called commas," Emily says. "And it helps to start a new paragraph when you veer into a different point so Marcus doesn't have to strain his eyes reading one big block of text. Wow, you passed first grade, right?"

"And it becomes more and more obvious you're friends with Lauren." Emily doesn't know if she should be proud of that, but she is. "I'm sorry I don't follow all your little grammar rules. What can I say? I'm a literary bad boy."

Emily laughs. He can be so lame. "Sure, but you need to know the rules to break them."

"Touché."

Ike pulls up in the parking lot where a bunch of kids are running around on the field. Emily spots Marnie first. Somehow she lucked out and looks nothing like Ike. Twelve-years-old (turning thirteen) and very pretty with freckles on the tip of her nose and light brown hair. The only thing she may have in common with Ike is that she's thin, borderline malnourished, but that's due to environment more than genetics.

"Who the hell is that punk talking to my sister?" Ike asks. The boy in question looks older, taller, dressed in baggy clothes with piercings and green spikes for hair. Ike gets out and walks over to them. When the truck is still rolling, Emily has to put it in park and shut it down.

By the time Emily joins them, Ike and Marnie are screaming back and forth. It doesn't even sound like words, just cries of frustration. The poor boy a step behind Marnie is confused, mentally debating whether he should run or not.

"Okay! Okay! Enough!" Emily shouts. "Both of you! Stop!"

"Emily!" Marnie shouts, looking at her like she's a godsend. "I was just talking to him! I don't know why my idiot brother has to walk over here and act like a complete freak!"

"I'm the freak?" Ike shouts. "This loser has green hair like a freaking anime character!"

"Ike, just go get Bobby," Emily says, shoving him away. Ike stands still, reluctant to leave. "Marnie, say goodbye to your friend."

"But, Em…"

Emily gives her a pointed look, Mary Poppins mode. It works on Brian and Marnie is no different. She says goodbye to her friend—Blink—and he goes on his way. Once the green-haired boy is out of sight, Ike goes over to the soccer field where a bunch of kids are listening to their coach talk.

"I don't know why you hang out with Ike. He's a jerk," Marnie says, watching her brother trek across the field in his heavy jacket and combat boots. "I swear we were just talking about a math test we have tomorrow. He's in my study group. He's like me."

"He's a pain, but Ike is just being a big brother. I know that's a lame excuse and it doesn't mean you don't have a right to be angry with him because you do. But he's just trying to look out for you…even if he did it in the most overdramatic way possible."

"I know," Marnie says, staring off across the field. "Did you know one of my classmates is dropping out because she got knocked up?"

"In the seventh grade?"

"Yup," Marnie says, kicking at the grass. "It was some older high school guy and he doesn't want anything to do with her. She doesn't have the money for an abortion so she doesn't have any other choice but to be the girl who got pregnant at fourteen."

"That's sad," Emily says, "but it's our reality. She's not the first in Laguna and she won't be the last. That's why Ike did what he did. He doesn't want that future for you and, I don't know, in his mind every guy is a threat."

"But he of all people should know that I'm not going to be one," Marnie says strongly. "I'm not stupid. I'm going to get out of Laguna, out of Colorado maybe. I hate it here."

"You and me both," Emily assures her. "Okay, when your brother comes back over we aren't going to scream and yell. You're going to tell him what you just told me as calmly as possible and if he still won't listen then you have my permission to kick him in the balls."

Marnie giggles. "Have you seen him around your blonde friend? Ike doesn't have balls."

They share laughs and a hug. Girls from the ghetto who dare to dream are a rarity and so Emily does everything in her power to represent and be a role model. With her mom gone, probably high in a crack house, someone has to. Emily is willing to accept the challenge.

"Emily, hey!" shouts Bobby, the youngest, nine. He has a stronger resemblance to Ike with his bone structure and face shape. His hair has more curl to it and he has freckles like his sister.

"Hey, Beckham," Emily says sweetly. She holds out her hand and Bobby gives her a high-five.

On the drive to the Pizza Shack, Emily plays mediator between Ike and Marnie with Bobby interjecting from time to time and making things worse. By the time they pull up in front of Emily's place of work, all is well. Emily starts to consider therapist as a serious career option.

"You think you could hook us up with a free pizza?" Ike asks. Emily throws her backpack on while walking her bike to the rack.

"Depends on who's in the kitchen," Emily says. "If the manager is in or our supervisor then there's no way I'm sneaking you free pizza, but anyone else and it should be fine."

"Cool," Ike says. "I'll take those odds."

It's just her luck that Carter and his stoner friends are working tonight. They're all hanging out and talking when Emily blazes through the employee break room and goes straight to the bathroom. She changes into her standard navy blue Pizza Shack polo.

"You ready to get this party started?" Carter's all smiles, eyes red and half-lidded. He smells like he's been smoking and not cigarettes.

"There's nothing I'd rather do, Carter," Emily says sarcastically.

"Really, because there's a ton of shit I'd rather do," Carter says. He obviously missed the sarcasm. Emily doesn't know why she even bothers.

She makes a pizza for Ike and the kids and doesn't charge them. That's the thing about the Pizza Shack. They don't take inventory, don't have security cameras and don't really care. At the end of the night when they have leftover pizza, Carter usually invites all his Royals over. It's unprofessional and not the best job, but it brings in a paycheck every two weeks.

It's a slow night, which is typical for a weekday. Carter fiddles around in the kitchen, his loud, distracting rap music blasting from the speakers. He raps along and jumps around, almost slipping in the flour that coats the kitchen floor. Meanwhile, Emily runs the register, sitting at the counter with _Paper Towns_. If there is a God he must love John Green.

When the bell jingles, Emily saves her page and tucks the book under the counter. She's ready to greet customers when a real smile overpowers the fake one she reserves for work. In walks Kaylie and she's carrying AJ's baby, wearing a tiny leo-looking onesie that says _Put me to bed_ across it. Emily had seen Amelia once before, a few months ago. She's grown so much since.

"Emily, look who's here for a slice of pizza," Kaylie sings, waving Amelia's little hand.

"Hi," Emily says in her highest singsong voice. "She's so cute."

"You're so cute," AJ says flirtatiously, coming up from behind Kaylie. Emily rounds the counter and runs into AJ's awaiting arms for a hug. "Damn, Em, you get taller every time I see you. At least, compared to Kaylie."

"Thanks a lot," Kaylie says, rolling her eyes. "Em, who's working today?"

"Only your favorite ex-boyfriend," Emily replies, moving aside so they can see into the kitchen. Not noticing them, Carter dances with the mop as an angry song rattles the kitchen.

Kaylie grimaces. "Did I really date that guy?"

"Yes, you did," Emily says. Lauren and Kaylie are more alike than either of them will admit.

"Hell no," AJ says. "Emily Kmetko, fuck no am I eating anything Carter, the stoner idiot, attempts to cook! No way. Come on, Kales, we're going to the Burger Hut."

"AJ, if it makes you feel better I'll personally make your pizza," Emily volunteers. She's actually trying to sway people to eat at the Pizza Shack. Who says Emily Kmetko isn't Employee of the Month material?

AJ considers the suggestion. "Great. I'll take a large margarita, large Carnivore and a bucket of hot wings. And I'll be sure to tip generously."

"The best sentence in the English language." Emily effortlessly works the cash register and AJ hands her $100 for a $25 order. He looks around the empty dining room and over at Carter who flings out his arms as he raps with the radio, thinking he's Eminem. AJ tells her to keep the change _all to herself_ and Emily pockets it. After all, they learn in first day training that the customer is always right. "Carter! Can you watch the front? I have a request."

"Sure." Carter turns down the music and walks out to sees Kaylie and AJ. A blank idiocy eats away at his face and leaves a zombie in place. On her way to the kitchen, Emily snaps her fingers in front of his face and Carter manages to mutter, "Oh. Kaylie…hi."

Kaylie doesn't say anything and AJ moves in, giving Carter a hard time. Emily doesn't hear any of the conversation because she goes into the back and scrubs her hands clean. She is a quick learner, but it took her forever to figure out the art of making pizza. Seeing Carter flinging dough like it was the easiest thing in the world only made Emily more determined to master it. It might have taken months, but now she's an expert.

"I'm allowed to be back here, right?" Kaylie asks.

"As long as you don't touch anything," Emily says while she continues to work. "Did you seriously leave your brother out there with your ex-boyfriend?"

"AJ took Amelia to the arcade," Kaylie explains. "Since when are you worried about Carter?"

"Since I'm kind of depending on him to run this place." Emily dresses the two disks of dough with sauce and toppings before bringing them to the oven. "Do you feel that? You're just radiating_ Kaylie wants to talk about something important, but don't know how to start_."

Arms behind her back, spinning on her toes, Kaylie asks, "You see through me that easily?"

"Like a window." Emily laughs, putting the pizzas in the brick oven. "What's on your mind?"

"Just the most awkward makeout session of my life," Kaylie answers. "Nothing _that_ big."

"With who?"

"_Em_."

"Nicky, right," Emily says quickly. "And why was it awkward exactly?"

Kaylie explains and Emily tries not to laugh, settling on a sympathetic smile. Kaylie cares so much and when she cares to this degree she ends up obsessing. She talks with her hands and can't keep still. Instead of trying to find a solution or sooth her worries, Emily simply goes over and hugs her. The words fade away, the stress with it, and Kaylie returns the hug.

"I thought you needed that right about now," Emily says.

"Yup. I really did."

Student. Sister. Reject. Tutor. Mediator. Co-worker. Friend.

In all truth, Emily needed that hug just as much as Kaylie.

…

Despite her faults and flaws, Lauren Tanner is a good friend and Payson has proof.

Though gymnastics usually takes up most of her time, it doesn't sever all communication with her friends. They text constantly and it's rare, but means a great deal to Payson when Lauren's texts aren't all irritating inquiries about her relationship with Austin. For instance:

_Heads up. Yr girl Parker is losing it. Drunk tweet. Drunk tweet. Drunk tweet. Ill save yr innocence from the deets. Just thought u should know. If I was spiraling I'd want u to know. Have a good day, bb. Xo _

Lauren isn't just talking about changing, but actually working towards it. While one friend is improving, another is falling harder. That talk with Kim must not have done the job if Kelly is still drinking and doing stupid things like broadcasting it to the public. During lunch, Payson tries to call her, but Kelly doesn't answer. At this point, she has no earthly idea how to handle this. It puts her in a bad mood for most of the day, but Austin always makes things better.

"Okay, Pay, your turn."

"Hmm. I spy with my little eyes," Payson lets her voice trail off for a second as she looks around the Rock, "a lioness stalking her prey. Oh, and she's in heat."

Austin surveys their surroundings and laughs when he sees one of the junior gymnasts' moms trying to flirt with Sasha. She's a bleach blonde stick figure with a boob job, made obvious by the tiny youth-size, practically see-through, bedazzled t-shirt she's wearing. Eyeing the nearest exit, Sasha is well aware of her intentions.

"Oh, man, Sasha looks uncomfortable."

"Because her eyes scream sexual assault," Payson says. "I don't blame him. Even my mom tries to set him up with her single friends and my dad is trying to find him a house—all unasked for. They're honestly too much sometimes especially when they're together."

"Your parents are just nice like that. I think it's cool. If there were more people like the Keelers in the world maybe the world wouldn't be such a horrible place. Since we're on the topic, did your dad say anything about me?"

"He said you look taller on TV and asked me if you were ever in the military or jail because of your tattoos."

"You told him neither, right?"

"I told him you did a little time, but that you learned from the error of your ways," Payson explains, very seriously. "I also told both my parents that I'm dropping my dream of the Olympics all together and you and me are going to elope and have a million Little Tuckers."

Austin smirks at her. "Well, if that's what you want…"

Payson hits him playfully. "Your turn."

"Hmm." Austin takes a look around. "I spy with my little eyes…someone trying to live their failed gymnastics dreams through their daughter, who would rather be at the mall, wearing that other mom's inappropriately tight t-shirt and getting hit on by boys."

Payson finds whom Austin is talking about almost too easily. There's a mom off to the side, talking to her daughter who can't be more than twelve-years-old. It always rubs Payson the wrong way to see parents who yell at their kids and suck the love out of the sport.

"I'm so glad my mom isn't like that," Payson mutters.

"Same here. I was kind of a troubled kid, starting fights on the playground, getting other kids in trouble, the Ringleader. Before my mom started homeschooling, they'd do these tests on me, thinking I had a learning disorder. I just had all this energy and no outlet and then someone suggested gymnastics. My dad didn't get it—wanted me to play football—but my mom signed me up and turns out I'm pretty good at it."

"Really?" Payson asks with mock confusion. "I hadn't noticed."

Austin leans in close, trying to be intimidating, but Payson isn't one bit deterred. "Like I was saying," he continues, "when everyone was saying I had a future in gymnastics, my parents didn't get it. Sometimes I think they still don't."

"Tell me about them. Your parents."

"What have I told you so far?"

"Next to nothing," Payson replies. "I remember we were in that bar in Texas last summer, talking about Faith and Coach Moretti and age differences. You mentioned your parents."

"Right." Austin nods. "My dad is twelve years older than my mom. She was seventeen and he was twenty-nine when they met. Such an odd couple." Austin laughs to himself. "And, yeah, they've been together for twenty-five years now."

"That's amazing."

"Isn't it? My mom is the sweetest. Listening to her talk is like eating ice cream cake all day and never getting sick, but when she needs to be, she gets fired up. My dad's this giant bear-man, old school and stubborn. He's got a temper and the only time I've ever seen him compromise is when my mom talks him into it. My sister takes after him so you could imagine. Dealing with my dad and my sister is a lot like dealing with KP, actually."

Payson's smile dims. They spent all lunch talking about Kelly and what they could do to help. She isn't answering anyone's calls and Austin is prepared to drive to Denver after practice and confront her head-on. It makes her happy to see how concerned he is, but also a little dejected. If laidback, carefree Austin Tucker is worried then it must mean something bad.

Not wanting to get into it about Kelly again and bring about all those sad, helpless feelings, Payson asks, "And when's the last time you saw your family?"

"Christmas. My dad's just happy I'm over my partying phase. Ha, get this, I walk into the house and my mom looks right at me and straight up asks, 'who's the girl?' as if she just _knows_. Something tells me my mom and yours would get along fine."

"Did you tell her about me?" Payson asks, nervous and having no clue why.

"Maybe," Austin says, just to torture her with his teasing. He moves his hand to take hers and Payson can't tell if he still makes her nervous after all this time or if she's just nervous someone will see. "Would it be so bad if I told my mom I may be interested in the strongest, most incredible, talented girl I've ever met?"

The way Austin makes her forget all the things they shouldn't be and only think of the things they can be, it's a loaded gun. Pointed at their hearts with a finger on the trigger.

"You know," she says, "I'm still just sixteen."

"But you're turning seventeen…two months from now," he reminds her, always the optimist. It touches her a little that he remembers when her birthday is.

"It honestly doesn't bother you that we have to put us, whatever we are, on hold because of gymnastics?"

"I don't really look at it like we're _on hold_," Austin says, playing with her fingers. "Just going slow, which is probably the best thing to do right now. I came in fifth at Worlds. _Fifth place_, Payson. Even KP got a medal and she was either drunk, hungover or pissed and breaking hotel furniture the entire time in Rio. I have a rep to reclaim and a title to defend and you have so much going for you. I think we both have more than enough to deal with right now."

Payson hums. "You have your amazing moments."

"Moments? That's it?"

Payson smiles, she just can't help herself, and would do more if she didn't spot Becca making her way over to them. Payson slowly pulls her hand away from his and Austin scans over their surroundings.

"Hey, Keeler the Third!" Austin shouts. Becca hates being called that, part of why Austin insists on doing so. "Tell me you finally, _finally_ took down that poster of Conrad in your room and put up one of me instead. You know that's the smart thing to do."

"Payson, your boyfriend is weird."

Payson is sick of denying it so she doesn't. "Becks, where's mom?"

"On the phone. She told me to tell you that you're driving me to Lacey's house tonight. I'm sleeping over and we're I'm going to re-watch Conrad at Worlds."

"A satanic Conrad worshipping party," Austin says. "Sounds fun."

Becca deadpans. "I still don't see how you two being a couple makes any sense."

"Yeah," Payson agrees, "but that's sort of what I like about it."

Austin grins. "What do you know? We have something besides gymnastics in common."

Austin insists on walking Payson out, but before they do, she makes it a point to check with her teammates and be social. So far being captain of the Rock's elite hasn't made that drastic of a change in her life, but people do look at her differently. Instead of blocking out everyone and concentrate on herself, Payson has these other girls to look out for.

Violet and Scarlett notice the way Austin trails after Payson like a puppy and they have questions, but luckily they aren't at that point of teammateship where they outright asks. After saying goodbye to the girls, they go to the front and Austin holds the door open for her. Right as Payson's about to walk out, Conrad rushes in, nearly knocking her over.

"Hey, Connie! Watch where you're going!" Austin yells.

"Shit," Conrad curses, reaching out a long arm towards her, but Payson already regained her balance. "Sorry, Pay. I didn't see you there."

"It's fine," Payson assures him. "Where's the fire, Coop?"

"Marty's outside."

A million things hit Payson at once. She still gets angry sometimes over Marty abandoning the Rock. Payson has worked with him ever since she was a junior. He always took a special interest in her because he could feel she was meant for greatness. All throughout her adolescence it was Payson's dream to work with Marty and when she finally got to, the affair reared its ugly head and the Rock lost both Marty and Kaylie because of it.

Marty tried to talk to her after resigning, but Payson was so upset she couldn't even meet him face-to-face. When she found out Marty took a head coaching job at Denver Elite and would be working with Kelly Parker, the It Girl of gymnastics at the time, it only made everything hurt more. Payson did the only thing she could, took the pain and put it into gymnastics.

She remembers seeing Marty's face at Nationals when she scooped gold right out from under Kelly Parker. The look on Kelly's face, the over all disappointment, the hints of defeat and the tint of fear, it had been satisfying, but then she looks over at Marty and he smiled and clapped like he was proud of her. Payson beat his #1 Meal Ticket Gymnast and Marty didn't look upset.

"Why is he here?" Conrad asks. "Probably to tell me what an idiot I am for doing what I did. And he'll probably try to talk me out of it like he tried to talk me out of moving to the Rock. The man sucks at normal conversation, but he can whip out an inspirational talk like no one's business. Have you noticed?"

"Yeah, I've noticed," she says flatly. "I'll go see what he wants."

"Really?"

"Since you're apparently too chicken to do it yourself," Payson says playfully. Conrad is anxious just at the idea of talking to Marty like their former coach has Jedi powers. Conrad gives her a guilty smile and Payson walks the rest of the way outside with Austin.

Marty still drives an old, ugly broken down car. It's parked in one of the spaces towards the back of the lot and he's just sitting there. Payson walks over with her head held high like the champion he taught her to be.

When he's only a couple feet away, Payson has a clear view of Marty sitting behind the wheel. Every time she sees him, no matter how much time has passed, to Payson Marty always looks exactly the same from his tan skin to his short, dark hair. He gets out of his car to meet her. For a long moment they just stare, size each other up, search for something to say.

"You're freaking out Conrad by being here." And that's Payson's chosen opening line.

Marty chuckles. "He's always performed best under pressure."

"Pressure and fear aren't the same thing," Payson points out, searching Marty's face that's often expressionless and hard to read. He isn't looking at her, but around her.

Marty's eyes are on Austin when he says, "What's with Tucker? He's looking at us like I'm about to pull out the chloroform rag and toss you in the trunk. Are you dating him?"

"I don't see why you'd care," Payson says. "You aren't my coach."

"Payson, just because I don't coach you doesn't mean I don't care."

She ignores the comment and asks, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see your mom."

"Why," Payson asks accusingly. "What's going on?"

Marty stares her down, makes her feel like a child, but she isn't one anymore. Payson hasn't considered herself a child for a long time now. Back when he was her coach, Marty would wear this one particular look and all his gymnasts would submitted to his authority. That isn't true anymore. Marty isn't her coach and Payson refuses to back down.

Heels hit the asphalt, something between a walk and a run. "Hey, Marty," Kim says, coming up behind Payson. "Sorry about the holdup. I had a few last minute things to take care of."

"No problem, Kim."

"What's going on?" Payson asks. This time she looks to her mom, demanding the truth. Kim and Marty exchange looks. "No, no telepathically coming up with an excuse. What's really going on? Mom, what's he doing here and why are you meeting up?"

Never one to lie to her children, Kim answers, "Payson, it's about Kelly."

Fearfully looking from her mother to Marty, Payson asks, "What happened now?"

"From what I've seen, she's getting worse every day," Marty says. "She missed practice today and she isn't answering her phone. When I called her house to see if she was dying or something, surprisingly, her dad answered."

"Surprisingly?" Kim asks. "Why is that surprising?"

"Parker, he, uh," Marty mumbles. "Richard Parker, businessman and renown plastic surgeon, books years in advanced with women convinced their lives will be over if they look their real age. He also owns a lot of the private health care services in Denver, oh, and he somehow finds the time to take trips to out of the country to fix up orphans and diplomats." That explains why he's always out of town. "I can't think of a single time he's seen Kelly compete."

"Maybe you should talk to him," Kim suggests.

"I'm coming to _you_ for advice on how to deal with a bratty teenage girl and that's what you give me, Kim?"

"Well, he is Kelly's dad," Kim says exasperatedly. "He must notice the change in her behavior and maybe if you work with him, you two can convince her that what she's doing isn't healthy and that things need to change. If her dad and her coach can't reach her then who can?"

"It's a little more complicated than that," Marty explains. "Parker level complicated is a whole other game. If Richard had his way, Kelly wouldn't even be in a gym. As you can imagine, he isn't a big fan of mine. The guy would probably use this as an opportunity to get her to quit and I'm not gonna let that happen."

"You have to try and compromise," Kim urges him. "Kelly's health might be depending on it."

"Okay," Marty gives in. "I'll give him a call."

"And keep me posted," Kim says. Marty nods. Kim turns to her purse and pulls out a brown unmarked envelope. She hands it to Marty who takes it and hugs it tight to his chest. "Everything should be in there. I don't know why you couldn't just come into the Rock and collect your leftover things yourself."

"It's Belov's stomping ground now. I thought it'd be best to handle it this way. Plus, I had to update you, both of you, on Kelly. Thanks again, Kim, for grabbing my things and bringing this Parker problem to my attention."

Payson's eyes go wide. No. Kim didn't tell Marty about the other night, did she?

"No problem," Kim says. "Kelly is a strong, driven gymnast and she's so young. I refuse to sit by and watch her throw herself away. Just let her know that it might not feel like it, but she does have people who care about her and she can't keep living like this."

"Will do." Marty pulls his car door open and starts to get in.

"Marty, why don't you join us for dinner tonight?" Kim asks. Payson turns to her mom as if she doesn't even recognize her. "Mark is in town and we haven't had you over in so long—"

"No!" Payson shouts. She doesn't know where it comes from. Without even looking, Payson already knows her mom isn't thrilled about her little lip of the lips. "I mean…"

"It's fine. I have things to take care of. It was nice seeing you, though. Both of you."

"Bye, Marty," Kim says. With his head hanging, Marty gets into his car and drives off. "Payson Elizabeth Keeler! I have never seen such disrespect, especially from you of all people! Becca, _maybe_, but you, Pay? What was that?"

"Mom, did you forget that he's the guy who broke up Kaylie's family?" Payson counters, her control slipping and giving way to emotion. "He's the guy who left the Rock _and me_ when I needed my coach! And you want me to just pretend none of that happened?"

"Payson, I understand why you're angry, I do, but you can't hold on to that forever," Kim tells her. "You hold on to that and it is going eat away at you. You will become bitter and sad and that's not who you are. Sometimes you need to just let go." Kim grabs a hold of her wrist and gives it a squeeze. "Payson, let it go."

Her anger tells her to hold her breath till she turns blue and blacks out. At least then her pride will stay intact. Taking her mom's advice to heart, Payson doesn't. She can't. She slowly lets out a breath and breathes in deep.

…

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Note: <strong>Was the make out scene with Kaylie and Nicky more awkward or hot and how was Lauren's little striptease?

**Review**.

#WeFab #LLD2 #LLDforever


	7. Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots!

**Warning: **Hold on to your hearts, lovers. Someone's must break.

* * *

><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

Kaylie owes Darby everything she has. Lauren owes Darby everything she once was.

It isn't a surprise that Lauren's idol _owns_ her sorority at CU Boulder. She's still as bubbly and glamorous as she was in high school, but it seems the hippie population has eaten her brain and replaced it with organic tofu. Darby is all about balance between the mind and spirit. Thank God it hasn't changed the fact that she knows how to throw a party.

When Darby arrives, she has Boulder Boozers lugging in kegs behind her. They already know their way around and set up in the kitchen. Boozers never hold grudges. The boys tease Lauren about dropping off the face of the earth and Lauren plays along and even flirts a little. With how good she is at faking it, acting might even have a place in her future.

"I have a dream!" Darby shouts, standing atop the dining room table and holding her cup like a microphone. She sways her hips from side to side, dancing like a girl in a Lil' Wayne music video. "That my lightweights will NOT be judged on their low alcohol tolerance, but by their love for the booze and the boozers!"

No one knows what she's going on about, but they cheer her on. For the last hour, Darby, delightfully on her way to drunk, has been standing there, talking about her dream of a world of no legal drinking age, total vegan domination and no oppression for the unicorn nation.

"You do know that she's butchering a staple in American history, right?" It's Emily, of course. "MLK shutters in his grave every time Darby says 'dream.'"

"I don't think anyone in this room cares and if they do they probably won't remember it tomorrow," Lauren says. She looks at Emily's empty hand and isn't pleased but holds back her commentary. "Well, almost everyone."

"Kaylie isn't drinking either."

"Only because Maeve isn't." Lauren scowls. "Booze is booze. You get the same results. Even I'm not snobby about liquor and I hate thrift shops and Pizza Shack and Burger Hut. How do they think it's a good idea to name their establishments with synonymous for shed or crack den? Such a mistake in judgment."

Emily giggles. "And how much have _you _had to drink?"

"Enough to feel good and be okay that people I hate are trashing my house, but not enough to make the same mistake twice," Lauren assures her. "And by mistake I mean fucking a douche with a mop on his head."

"Good girl," Emily says pleasantly. "Payson isn't drinking either."

"Boo." Lauren wraps an arm around Emily in a half-hug that's immediately returned. "As a new addition to the Reformed Bad Girls Club—" Lauren laughs at herself. "Did I just say Reformed Bad Girls Club? O.M.G. Anyways, I am going to do something you are going to hate me for, but in the long run you will love me even more for."

"I don't like the sound of this…"

There is a sea of people in the living room and Lauren is determined to weave through them to get to the other side. She pulls Emily along with her and shouts, "Conrad!"

"Hey, little blonde who stole my beer," Conrad says. His voice doesn't slur and his eyes are clear even though he's always with a drink in hand. "Austin said to stay away from you."

"Not surprised, not even offended," Lauren says. "Cowboy, have you met my friend, Emily?"

"I believe we have," Conrad says. His face crinkles, actually making an effort to remember. "The Worlds sendoff the Keelers hosted. Payson introduced us."

"Right!" Lauren says cheerily. Progress already. "Em, you're friends with Payson and Conrad, you're friends with Payson too. Wow! Don't you two have so much in common? That's awesome. I'm just going to leave you two to talk and get to know each other."

"Lo…"

"I should do rounds, make sure they are tearing my house apart," Lauren says, pretending not to notice Emily's eyes, begging her not to leave them alone together.

Though Lauren isn't the best when it comes to this, it only seems natural that the quickest way to get over a guy is to meet a new one. Lauren doesn't expect Emily and Conrad to fall madly in love, but talking to a sweet, normal dude is a step in the right direction.

Lauren feels a thin, female arm wrap around her shoulders and for a second she wants it to be Kaylie even though she knows it isn't. "Hey, babe!" Darby shouts. "Great party!"

"I know, right? And all thanks to you, babysitter," Lauren says, bumping Darby with her hip.

"I really missed this," Darby says. Her eyes are on all the chaos, feeding off it. "When are you gonna come back to campus and party with us like you used to? It's been ages! My girls miss you. Jake too even if he won't admit it."

_Jake Conrad_. (Again, not of the Cowboy variety). Lauren wants to roll her eyes just thinking about that cocky wrestler.

"I miss the girls too," Lauren says. It isn't entirely untrue, but it sounds nice. "Soon, okay?"

"_Well_," Darby sings, "if you apply to CU Boulder next year then you can be one of us and we can go to parties like this all the time and be best friends forever!"

Just the idea of college freaks her out. "Sure. If I get in."

Darby scoffs. "Honey, if _I_ can get in then you could do it with your eyes closed."

"Sounds like the direction I'm headed since I sleep through majority of my classes on the daily. Weren't you valedictorian of your class?" Lauren asks. Lost to the question and the alcohol in her system, Darby hugs Lauren tighter, nearing that touchy-feely stage of drunk.

When Darby spots a girl dancing on _her_ table, she mutters a, "Oh, no she di'int," and launches herself off of Lauren and back into the crowd, barreling straight for the dinning room. Lauren laughs, watching Darby kick the poor drunk girl off her table. Yep, that's Lauren's role model.

Before Darby brought it up just now, Lauren hasn't devoted much serious thought to college. She always thought she'd get the hell out of Colorado and go somewhere worthwhile (California) unlike majority of Taft who either don't go to college or go to CU without question. Lauren has a spot as a ZBZ pledge waiting for her. An easy decision leads to an easy life.

Thinking about college gets to her too easily. Before sneaking out for air, Lauren takes a moment, spots Emily talking to Conrad and smiles to herself. All of a sudden someone brushes up against her and Lauren is ready to verbally tear him apart, but sees it was just Ike. Normally she'd tear him apart regardless, but doesn't have the energy to right now. He lifts his cup and Lauren toasts with him before walking out to the backyard.

The pool is lit and no one else is around. Farther out, a bunch of stoners are lying out on the grass, pointing at the sky. Lauren sits in one of the chairs, smoothing down the material of her dress, the red one Razor helped her choose. The only way tonight could've been better is if he was here with her.

"Nice night for a rager?"

AJ. Lauren didn't reply to his "_I'm back"_ text, partly because she didn't want to believe he was back, but mostly because she didn't know what to say. Staring at the ground, she sees his leather shoes first and then her eyes make their way up his dark jeans, button down and finally his face, smiling at her. It almost feels like seconds ago he told her he was leaving.

"Not my idea." Lauren makes it clear. She doesn't jump to hug him or wrap her legs around his waist so they can spin in circles like in the silly movies she loves so much. She just takes a sip of her drink. "I just provided the venue. It's Kaylie's party, actually."

"And when Kaylie cracks the whip you bend over," AJ says. Lauren knows he's joking in that crude way that AJ thinks is funny, but Lauren takes it as an implication that she's weak.

"Can you be any more of a child?" Lauren asks. "You talk to your kid with that mouth?"

"Yup, kiss my loving mother with it too," AJ says, like the snarky son of a bitch he tries to be. So much for him coming back as a completely different AJ. "So, did you get my text?"

"Yes, and I chose to ignore it."

"Ouch, Lo."

"I've been busy," she says. "My life doesn't revolve around you and when you're forced back to Boulder. Kaylie told me about your baby's church thing. Since when are you religious?"

"I'm not. It's a family thing."

"So how long is this family thing keeping you here?" Lauren asks.

"I don't know yet. The weekend, for sure. It's like a little family reunion. Leo is home. My dad's supposed to show. Shauna is around here somewhere," AJ explains, motioning to the party. Lauren presses her teeth tight together at the thought of Shauna Donovan being in her house. "My little sister didn't even invite us. Darby did."

"Darby's biggest flaw was being friends with Shauna Donovan." Lauren doesn't even feel bad about thinking it aloud. It doesn't come from a place of jealousy. It's just true.

"They're practically sisters, actually." This smirk tugs at AJ's lips and Lauren knows he's making assumptions about her. "Lo, Shauna's changed since high school. She makes a kickass mom."

"So are you two, like, together?" Lauren asks. It comes out quick and direct. She hates the idea of having to think about why, but she really wants to know.

"Not so clear on that myself," AJ says. "We get along fine and we're always spending time together even if we aren't living together. All I know is my life is scary good right now and I'm not about to complicate it by overthinking. Kaylie does that enough for everyone."

Though her face has been cold and all business, Lauren cracks a smile at that last part. Despite how little time they spend together, AJ knows his sister better than most.

Staring down into her drink, Lauren relaxes a little. Hoarsely, she murmurs, "That's great for you." She's sitting and he's standing and she finally meets his eyes. "And I mean that."

AJ nods, holding her gaze. "I can tell."

Lauren wants to blame the strange, almost mystical feeling she has on the absence of clouds and the strength of the moon, bathing them in light. It reminds her of something Max told her about natural light casting shadows under eyes and noses and chins. She wants to blame the night and the lighting for the hunger she thinks she sees in him. She wants to ignore how much she wants to go back to when they were careless and stupid and did what they wanted.

"I'm still me, Lo."

"I can tell," she says. "That's what makes this so hard."

Before AJ can respond, a voice calls out, "Alexander! There you are!"

Record scratch. Moment over. AJ turns out, reacting to the sound of his name—_his full name._

Lauren actually laughs out loud. "Alexander?"

Lauren sees Shauna Donovan slinking over, walking like she still thinks she's the coolest girl at school. The last thing Lauren wants to admit is how hot Shauna is, but _damn,_ she's hot for someone who got pregnant and gave birth. There's this Amazonian quality about her, strong, almost a head taller than Lauren. Though she'd never own up to it, Lauren is a little intimidated, but mostly annoyed.

Shauna marks her territory out of instinct, placing a hand at the nape of AJ's neck and gently scratching her short, cheaply painted fingernails across the buzz cut of his hair at the back. It immediately grabs AJ's attention, his dark eyes leaving Lauren and focusing on the other blonde, the mother of his daughter. Lauren can't say she likes what she sees, but she doesn't have a say in it either. She just keeps drinking.

"Hey," AJ says. "How's the reunion with Dar?"

"A lot of hugging and screaming, but it didn't last very long," Shauna replies. "She's making her classic 'I Have a Dream' speeches. Drunk, _really_ drunk. _Graduation drunk_."

"Atta girl," AJ says. Shauna smacks his chest and AJ smiles at her. It's a different smile, one Lauren hasn't ever seen before and that kills her a little. More than that, AJ isn't even aware of how out of place Lauren feels. "Didn't Dar end up on YouTube or some shit?"

"Exactly," Shauna says, pulling AJ's arm around her. "Dar was giving a speech at graduation, pretty buzzed from when we were pre-gaming in the dressing rooms and decided to ditch the cheesy note cards and wing it. She hasn't changed a bit. A little E and she can party for days straight. Me, on the other hand…"

"Not your scene?" AJ asks.

"That's too bad." Lauren slices through their conversation, taking an innocent sip of her drink.

Shauna reacts as if just noticing Lauren right now. "Oh. Lauren Tanner." Lauren waves her fingers, but Shauna doesn't acknowledge her long enough to see, promptly tugging on AJ. "You want to get out of here? Dar's wasted beyond recognition and it's all high school kids and boozers being boozers. Plus, I feel bad for ditching Amelia with your brother…but if you want to go inside and have a beer then that's cool too."

"Nah, let's go." There's something so wrong about AJ Cruz turning down a party. "It isn't really my scene anymore either, which is ironic 'cause we hooked up at a party just like this." AJ leans into Shauna and she shakes her head at the memory or lack thereof. Lauren's sips turn to gulps. "You know how Melia is at night. Leo probably stuck his head in an oven already."

"Don't you want to go check in with your sister before we go?" Shauna asks.

"Nope," AJ says without a care in the world. "That's what we've got Lauren for. Yo, Lo, you'll keep an eye on Kales for me, right?"

She swallows another mouthful of beer. "Don't I always?"

"You are the best." AJ lifts two fingers at her in a sort of lazy salute before the two make their way to the gate. Lauren hangs back, turning her plastic cup in her hand. She watches the way AJ gives Shauna a peck on the cheek and she slips her hand into his back pocket.

Get drunker faster to wash that image out of her mind? Yes, please.

…

Kaylie hates feeling like she's drifting from the Four so she suggests they all get ready together before the party.

"Who's planning on getting laid tonight?" Lauren sings. She spins in circles around her shockingly clean room with a wine cooler in hand. All eyes turn to Kaylie.

"Guys, I seriously doubt that," Kaylie says. "I had the most awkward makeout session of my life the other day with my _boyfriend_ and when I say _most _I mean this tops the time with Carter in the movie theater. I literally threw myself at him and Nicky kept pulling away."

"Relax, Kay. That is stone cold proof that it isn't you. It's him," Lauren says, laying it out for her. She offers her glass bottle of sweet, pink liquor to Kaylie who just waves it off. The blonde shrugs and takes a long sip. At this point, Lauren can drink wine coolers like Kool-Aid. If Kaylie started drinking this early, she'd lose it by the time the party starts.

"Lo has a point," Emily says. "He's obviously holding back. Maybe if you talked about it?"

"Nicky doesn't like to talk about feelings." Kaylie stares at her reflection in the mirror. Her make up is perfect. She could use more, but no amount could hide her insecurities. "We talk, but never about what we should be talking about. At first I thought maybe it's a guy thing, but I'm starting to think it's a _Nicky thing_. I never knew relationships could be so frustrating."

"Dump him," Lauren says, like that's the solution to it all.

Kaylie gasps. "Lo!"

"What? Everyone was thinking it," she says defensively, looking to Emily and then Payson, both of who pretend not to notice. "Dump him. Then in twenty years you'll run into him downtown and you won't even recognize him because he had a sex change to become the girl he is and you'll be glad you ended it when you did."

Kaylie skews her perfectly shaped eyebrows. "Is this supposed to be making me feel better?"

"Do you?" Lauren asks, sitting on the plush seat next to Kaylie and poking her in the side. Kaylie scrunches her face and tries her hardest not to smile at the mental image.

"Maybe, but only a little."

Lauren smiles and raises her bottle. "I'll be here all night."

"Wow, it's nice to see you two getting along," Emily observes from her spot on the bed with Lauren's laptop. Her eyes are trained on the screen, probably running Damon's name through Google like always. Kaylie doesn't approve, but she understands.

"Sure, if _nice_ became a synonym for _weird_," Payson adds.

"Pay, don't ruin the moment," Kaylie scolds her. "Now, let me put some eyeshadow on you."

"Which really means you want to paint my face like we're at a charity carnival," Payson says. Earlier, she already made her case about not seeing the point of getting dressed up just to be stuck in a hot, crowded party and get trampled by underage drunks all night. "I'll pass."

"But your _boyfriend_ is coming over," Kaylie teases. It's nice to have someone else in the Four in a relationship. In theory, it should be Kaylie and Payson trading dating stories and experiences, but they don't.

"Who would've thought that Payson Keeler would have a boyfriend and I wouldn't and I'd be okay with that," Lauren muses. "And I don't mean anything by that, Pay."

"I figured," Payson says, not one bit offended.

Kaylie turns toward the current World Champion, curious. "And why don't you ever talk about your boyfriend, Miss Keeler?"

Payson shrugs. "There's nothing to talk about."

All the other girls collectively groan.

"We all hear it, but no one's believing it, Payson." Kaylie giggles.

"My thoughts exactly," Lauren agrees. Her and Kaylie seem to be really in synch tonight. Maybe it's a sign the party won't be that bad. "The second I see Mr. Austin T tonight we're going to have a long conversation about a little something I like to call LID. Locking It Down. Without LID we'd all be hopelessly confused and unhappy. LID is a way of life."

"Have you ever thought of motivational speaker as a future career path, maybe?" Emily asks.

"And teaching hopeless people the secrets of _lid_?" Payson deadpans.

"Laugh all you want, but LID is necessary to every relationship you want to last beyond the bedroom door," Lauren says. "Oh, and, Kay, after all your little Royal jerks and their little followers trash my house, you aren't getting out of helping us clean. You and your boy toy."

"It didn't even cross my mind," she says, hugging Lauren who's mid-sip.

Kaylie knows Maeve won't show until at least an hour into the party. It's her signature move to be fashionably late so before Maeve shows up, Kaylie spends time with the Four. It's nice to be with her childhood friends, talking and teasing each other. When Austin and his friend arrive, Lauren starts policing the party and Emily starts policing Lauren so Kaylie spends some time with the Royals until Nicky gets there.

"You know I don't like parties," Nicky grumbles as he hugs her hello. Kaylie nods her head against his shoulder. He makes sacrifices for her and to Kaylie it's him making an effort. It reassures her he wants to be in this relationship just as much as she does.

"I know," Kaylie says quietly, still holding on to him. She pulls back enough to look at his uncomfortable, anxious face. "That's why it makes me happy that you stilled showed up."

"Did you doubt me?" Nicky tilts his chin and does that thing with his eyebrows that makes him look like a confused puppy. "I'll always show up for you, Princess."

Kaylie smiles because he knows it's exactly what she wants to hear, but also that he means it. She's about to kiss him when someone comes over, shakes Nicky by the shoulders and chants, "Whipped! Whipped! Nicky's whipped!"

Max laughs and runs off. Kaylie is bad at hiding a laugh, especially with how upset Nicky is. She assures him that Max is just having his future frat boy fun before Maeve shows up and he reassumes his role as loving, tamed boyfriend. Despite what she says, Nicky stares after his cousin with a dark look in his eyes. It makes Kaylie nervous, but tonight isn't couples therapy night. It's supposed to be fun so she kisses him and drags him by the hand into the party.

Kaylie does the necessary rounds, making small talk and trying to get Nicky to socialize, both with the Four and the Royals. When Maeve still hasn't arrived, Nicky and Kaylie end up in the sitting room, one of the few quieter rooms in the house. Usually, at parties, Nicky will start to loosen up, but for some reason he's still as anxious as when he first walked in.

"What's up with you tonight?" Kaylie asks. She runs her hands up his chest and his gaze snaps to her as if just remembering she's there. "Is it school? College? I know CU Boulder isn't your first choice, but it's a start. I'm sure the rest will come pouring in any day now."

"No, school' fine. It's family stuff." Something clicks in him and Nicky goes on, "I talked to Hector the other day. His dad is sick so he's going back to Barcelona for a bit next month."

"That's awful." Kaylie thinks back to that summer in Spain. "How's he taking it?"

"You know Hector and how family-oriented he is. He sounded like he's taking it well, just anxious to get home. I don't blame him."

"You miss Barcelona too?"

"So much it isn't even funny," Nicky says. "Don't you?"

"Of course." Kaylie closes her eyes for a moment, imagining the smell of Abuela and Abuelo cooking, the heat of the sun on her skin and the sand between her toes. She runs down Nicky's arm and he rubs a thumb up in circles on her shoulder. If she's being honest, who she was, who Nicky was and who they were together in Spain, that's what she misses most.

"I'm sorry about the other day," Nicky whispers. His lips brush her ear and it makes her hyperaware of everything around her, how close they are, the gentle way he's touching her, how sincere he sounds. "I was having an off day and I'm sorry. I want to make it up to you…"

Kaylie blushes just at the sound of his voice and she can feel it, but she doesn't have the time to be embarrassed because then he kisses her. She's sure he has the softest lips ever and he knows just what to do with them. Her arms move around his neck to pull him tighter against her, needing to be closer and prove that there's something deeper, past the happy couple exterior, a future worth pursuing. When they part, Nicky gives her this lazy, sexy smile and Kaylie swells from how giddy she is. Something tells her tonight is going to be a great night.

"Oh, my God! So they do kiss in public! I was beginning to have my doubts."

Kaylie watches the way Nicky's expression turns sour, lowering his head enough for her to see past him. It's Maeve, but they both knew that from the sound of her voice alone. She's wearing this cute knit top with quarter sleeves and ridiculous, silver skinny jeans that just make her look thinner than ever imaginable. She struts over in pumps with pointy toes and places a hand on Nicky's shoulder, shoving him away from Kaylie.

"I am willing to make you a deal, future cousin-in-law." Nicky looks disgust and Maeve sees it, but ignores it. "Let me borrow Kaylie for an hour, two tops and after, she's all yours. Then, once you're back from trading V-cards upstairs, I won't make the entire room clap and toast to you, as fun as that sounds."

"Maeve, no threatening my boyfriend." Kaylie takes Nicky by the chin and quickly pecks his cheek before she stands, straightens the material of her hot pink dress and takes her rightful place at Maeve's side. "You don't mind, right?"

"No. Go have fun with your friends," Nicky says. "I'll just go see what Max is up to."

"Please do. And make sure he isn't making me look bad," Maeve says. Nicky narrows his eyes at her and Maeve blows him a kiss before dragging Kaylie back to the party.

Maeve's first stop is to thank Lauren for hosting. Maeve does that thing she always does, sounding so sweet that it's bitchy. Kaylie gives Lauren a grateful little smile and squeezes her shoulder before Maeve drags her on to the next group to socialize with. They talk to different people (Alison DiLaurentis included) and make fun of the drunks doing stupid things and dance like dorks when an ABBA song plays. Maeve doesn't drink and so Kaylie steers away from it too and, plus, if something does happen with Nicky tonight, it's best done sober.

Late into the party, Kaylie grabs a bottle of water, feeling the body heat starting to get to her. That's when Maeve walks up to her and with news.

"Theresa just told me she saw your boyfriend coming out of one of the bedrooms with your friend, the blonde one that was hanging on Austin Tucker all night," Maeve reports. "Can you say skank? With your boyfriend and at your own party, why would someone be so dumb?"

"Stop it," Kaylie says sharply. "I'm sure they were just talking or something."

"God, Kaylie-cakes, you know I love you, but sometimes you're too nice." Maeve takes a sip of her water (and bitched for half an hour that it was Voss and not Fiji) and waves her boyfriend over when she spots him for what feels like the first time all night. "Where have you been?"

"A friendly chat with my favorite cousin," Max says, fixing the collar of his rumpled shirt. Kaylie and Maeve sit at the dinning room table that's cluttered with empty bottles and random snack food. Max pulls up a chair next to Maeve and she wraps an arm around him.

"Baby," she coos, "you're so tense."

"Nothing a cold beer can't fix." Max kisses the side of her face. "You okay, May? You seem a little jittery. Did you take something?"

"Red Bull. I probably shouldn't have gone for that second one." Maeve self-consciously removes her arm from around Max and laces her bony fingers in her lap. Shrugging it off, Max grabs a can of beer and pops the tab, drinking it quicker than he should.

Not too long after, Nicky walks into the room and instantly goes to Kaylie like magnets. He slides his hand down the back of Kaylie's hair and she smiles when she sees him.

"Hey," Nicky says. "What are you up to?"

"Less than you apparently," Maeve murmurs beneath her breath.

Kaylie eyes him, trying not to appear too suspicious. "You were hanging out with Payson?"

She sees the yes on his face. "We talked for a bit, yeah. Payson's cool."

"Not the word I would have used," Maeve says, louder this time.

Nicky shoots her a glare. "Maeve, what is your problem exactly?"

"If you think you can do better than Kaylie, your GPA is no reflection of your smarts, Smarty."

"You don't get to call me that." Nicky's hand forms a fist that shakes against the table. Maeve slides the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip, intrigued by the sudden show of emotion.

"Tisk. Tisk. Temper, temper," Maeve teases.

"Okay. Both of you, stop," Kaylie intervenes.

"How about a game?" Max suggests. It sounds like a good distraction. Kaylie is happy someone else is trying to alleviate the tension, but there's an uncharacteristically dark feel to Max's glassy, almost bloodthirsty eyes. Kaylie feels Nicky's muscle tense up at her side when he notices too. "We're all fans of 'I Never,' right?"

Max's near shouting draws in a few Royals. Shane pulls up a chair next to Max—typical—and the photographer gives his friend a cool nod. "Shane, start us off."

"Hmm," the jock murmurs, rubbing his chin. "I never…understood why in cartoons and someone is sleeping they put zzz's over their heads. I don't know about you, but I don't make zzz's in my sleep…"

Everyone looks at him like he's remedial, which he is.

"Sweetie, I think you're doing it wrong." Maeve sits a little taller in her chair and leans over for a couple cans of beer. She slides one over to Kaylie and pops the tab of her own, drinking for the sake of the game. "I'll start. I never…got caught giving head."

None of the boys drink, looking around with such heightened anticipation. A couple of the girls on the cheer squad, Theresa and Beverly, take shy sips and are greeted with hoots. Kaylie tries to hold back her instinct to judge and taps her fingernails against the unopened beer in front of her. She thinks it's stupid, but who is she to deny the bored, Colorado kids their fun?

"Oh," Shane says, finally catching on. "It's like a dirty game?"

"You're so lucky you've got a good arm." Max laughs and clasps Shane's shoulder.

"No, I can play," says the quarterback. "Let's see. I never…did it in my parents' bed."

Everyone waits for the reveal moment, wanting to see who's brave enough to confess his or her sins to a crowd of the popular kids. Maeve glances over at her boyfriend and Max smirks a little and takes a drink. Maeve does the same while everyone around them claps. They all act so surprise even though it really isn't. It is Max and Maeve, super couple.

Once Kaylie gets past the shock, she shakes Maeve's arm. "Oh, my God! Maeve, you slut!"

"No," she says, addressing the room. Maeve holds up a hand to quiet the herd and it works. "No. It's not slutty if it's exclusive. If you're in a relationship then you can do whatever. Cheating, now _that_ is slutty." She gives Nicky a pointed look and everyone notices.

"Your place or Max's?" one of the cheerleaders inquires.

"No," Max says, a hand on his girlfriend's arm. "We're done with this one. We wouldn't want to give Nicky any more blackmail." Max eyes his cousin and everyone feels the hostility. It's only natural. Nicky isn't one of them. He's Kaylie's plus one. "Hmm, I've got one. I never had sex with a psychotic bitch on a trampoline."

The room goes quiet. Shane is dumb enough to ask, "Who has?"

Max tips his beer to Nicky. "Hey, Brainiac, aren't you supposed to drink?"

No one says a thing. They all just stare at the outsider. A few remember Nicky as the invisible nerd who got into that fistfight with Shane, but most Royals just regard him as Kaylie's property. That's why all eyes then turn to Kaylie, waiting for her reaction when she doesn't even know how to react. Growing more and more aware that everyone is staring at her, Kaylie stands from the table and walks out without a word.

Only when Kaylie disappears does Maeve ask, "Okay, what just happened here?"

"Your boyfriend is a jackass," Nicky says, angrily getting to his feet.

"Nicky, wait!" Max yells after him. "You're supposed to drink! That's the game!"

Maeve shoves Max's hand off of her, irritated. "Honey, I get that you and Nicky have weird Sopranos family drama, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't drag my friend into it. Max, you can be such an ass." Maeve gives him a dirty look before leaving the room. Shoving his chair back, Max goes after her. He grabs her by her skeletal arm and tries to talk her down.

"Kaylie, wait!" Nicky shouts, desperate to be heard over the throbbing music. He weaves through the party zombies, chasing after his girlfriend. She hears him, but she's so heated and embarrassed that she doesn't acknowledge him. "Kaylie, c'mon, we need to talk about this!"

Once he follows down the hall where it's quieter, Kaylie finally turns to face him. Nicky nearly mows her down, coming to a stop so they're literally face-to-face. "So now you want to talk?"

"Well, yeah," Nicky says. "I don't want you thinking whatever you're thinking."

"I just, I thought we were over this keeping secrets thing?"

"Keeping secrets?" Nicky looks confused. "Last I checked we agreed not to talk about past hookups. I don't ask or need to know about whatever happened with you and Carter. And for the record, Max doesn't know what he's talking about. We might have kissed, but not…"

"Oh, so you just made out with a psychotic bitch on a trampoline? That's _so_ much better!"

"Does it matter?" Nicky asks. "It happened before we met. You can't punish me for something that happened before we met! See, this is exactly what Max wanted to happen. He's pissed and trying to get back at me. Not to mention he's been drinking. Kaylie, fighting over nothing is stupid. Can we drop it, please?"

"Answer me this and we'll drop it," Kaylie says, crossing her arms. "Was it Kelly?"

Nicky reaches a point beyond frustration and Kaylie can feel it so she prepares for a fight. "Kaylie, do you hear yourself right now? You need to stop thinking everything is about Kelly!"

"Isn't it, though?" she asks, weakly. "What were you and Payson talking about earlier?" Nicky freezes. "Nicky, I could jump to some other conclusions when someone tells me they saw one of my best friends come out of an upstairs bedroom with my boyfriend, but I trust you and I trust Payson. So, logically, it must have had something to do with Kelly Parker. Why else would you and Payson even talk?"

"Faith, maybe?"

Kaylie throws her hands up, equally as frustrated. "Which is just as bad."

"What's so bad about that? Why can't I talk to Payson about our mutual friends?"

"Okay, fine. We'll drop it."

"Wait, so you bug me about not wanting to talk and now that we're trying to get somewhere you don't want to?" Nicky turns away and takes two steps just to turn and walk back to her.

"Bug you? So that's what I do? Nicky, all I'm trying to do is get you to open up."

"Open up?" Nicky stretches his arms out. "I feel like I'm being interrogated! Okay. Fine. Let's open up. Tell me what you have against the one actual friend I have and I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Anything in the world, Kaylie, if we can just finish a conversation for once."

She could yell and scream and prove that she can be louder than him, but she doesn't. Instead, as calmly as she can, Kaylie says, "You never answered my question before. The trampoline tramp is Kelly Parker, isn't it? What other psychotic bitches do you know?"

"Kaylie, I don't know how to deal when you do this. If it isn't Faith then it's Kelly and if it isn't Kelly then it's Faith. I haven't had a real conversation with either of them since last summer, but that doesn't change the fact that they're my friends and I miss them. Is that so wrong? I don't get what you want. I can't do this right now, okay?"

Nicky turns and starts for the door. It's Kaylie's turn to chase him. "Nicky!"

"You're sleeping here tonight, right?" he asks. He faces her, but slowly walks backwards into the foyer with hands in his pockets. "I need to go. I'll call you tomorrow. I promise."

"Nicky!" she shouts again, as if her volume can keep him from leaving. Nicky dismissively waves his hand behind his head and walks out. Kaylie knows he just needs to cool off and then everything will be good again. Until then she just needs to hold on to that hope.

"K, you don't look so okay." A hand touches her back and it's Lauren. She's glassy-eyed, not completely wasted, but getting there. Her concern seems genuine enough. Kaylie leans into her. She could really use a hug right about now.

"It's fine." Kaylie sniffles.

"Did you know?" Payson's voice cuts like a knife. It sounds even more severe in comparison to Lauren's drunken softness. "Kaylie, did you know about the pictures of Kelly?"

"Did you not?" Kaylie snaps. She's angry and she's hurt and she doesn't enjoy feeling attacked. She knows taking it out on Payson wouldn't be fair, but at this point Kaylie doesn't care. "She is your friend, isn't she, Pay? Shouldn't you have known?"

"No, I didn't, but my new best friend's boyfriend wasn't the one who took them. That's all you," Payson says. The accusation (even though it's a correct one) only pisses Kaylie off even more. She will never for the life of her understand why everyone jumps to Kelly Parker's defense. Payson was her friend first, not Kelly. Can't she see how she's hurting?

"Payson, I don't want to do this with you right now," Kaylie says as calmly as she can. "If you didn't notice, I just got into a fight with my boyfriend and I feel like crap."

"When are we supposed to talk about this?"

"How about never?" Kaylie says snidely.

"You're the one obsessed with the truth," Payson points out. "Just tell me if you knew or not. That's all you ask of anyone. Well, now I'm asking you."

Kaylie hates this. Damned if she does and damned if she doesn't. After a moment of thinking it over, Kaylie would rather tell the truth as hard as that is than be a hypocrite. "Yes, I knew. I saw them the day Max put them on his site. There. Happy, Payson?"

"And you didn't tell me? You didn't even tell Nicky, did you? He's Kelly's best friend!"

"Guys," Emily says in this timid voice, walking up between them. "Don't fight."

"I don't even know what the hell is going on right now," Lauren murmurs.

Sidestepping Emily and weaving around Lauren, Payson moves right in front of Kaylie. "Tonight I found your boyfriend fighting about it with Max, telling him to take the pictures down. Thank God someone did! Do you know what something like that can do to a gymnast trying to make the Olympic team?"

"They were fighting over Kelly?" Kaylie asks. "He isn't even on speaking terms with her and she's still messing up our relationship!"

"Kaylie, that's not what's important!"

"Oh, boo hoo, Pay!" Kaylie shouts. "If she wasn't acting like a slut then there wouldn't be anything to take pictures of in the first place. I don't know why you're mad at _me_! I wasn't the one who took them or put them online or posed for them."

"But you knew about them and you didn't say anything, did you?" Payson shouts back. To which, Kaylie doesn't respond. "And you're really one to talk, Kaylie. You're the queen of sloppy drunk mistakes and so far you're just lucky no one put those online."

"Okay, that's enough." Maeve swoops in, knocking Lauren back to get between Payson and Kaylie. A drunken Lauren almost falls over and gets pissed about it, lunging for Maeve, but Emily manages to hold her back. "This party sucks. Max is being an asshole. I'm out. Kaylie?"

Kaylie gives her oldest friends a sweeping look from Payson's misdirected anger to Emily struggling to restrain Lauren and then finally to Maeve who looks like she's ready to beat down a bitch if Kaylie so much as asks.

"Yeah," Kaylie says. "Let's leave."

"Kaylie, don't go," Emily says, but Kaylie acts as if she doesn't hear.

Rising above the others with a smug smile, Maeve grabs Kaylie's arm and leads her out the front door. Of course it's Lauren who always has the last word. Struggling for balance, she grumbles, "So much for a party for peace."

…

How Emily ends up in a corner with Conrad Cooper at Lauren's party is the biggest mystery of the night. Well, maybe not the _biggest_ mystery—Lauren set them up—but it is baffling to Emily at least. What's glaringly obvious is how it's fast becoming a sinking ship. Besides being friends with Payson, they have nothing in common and nothing to talk about.

"So…did you watch Worlds on TV?" Conrad asks.

"Um, I watched the girls circuit to see Payson compete, but that's it…sorry."

Conrad smiles like he gets that response a lot and Emily can't help, but be a little sympathetic.

"Nah." Conrad waves off her apology. "It's cool."

And just like that they're back to silence. Emily glances at the nearest clock for the fifth time since Lauren ditched them and sees that they've been trying to think of things to talk about for a solid fifteen minutes now. The trying-way-too-hard-conversation is too Awkward Blind Date to be anywhere near normal.

Not a fan of the silence, Emily asks the first thing that comes to her. "So where do you live?"

"Austin's spare room at the lake house." Conrad nods across the room where Austin and Payson are off in their own little world, him giving her a kiss and her looking like a deer in headlights. Conrad grins at his fellow gymnasts before bringing his attention back to Emily. "I was born in Dillon, Texas, but moved to Dallas. I trained at the World Olympic Gymnastics Academy before moving to Colorado."

"Oh. I hear it's hot there."

"It can be."

The conversation drives straight into a brick wall, one of many tonight. When Emily fumbles for something to say (what was she thinking bringing up the weather?) they're left with the silence yet again. Emily is fairly devoted to her straightedge ways, but alcohol is starting to sound more and more like a good idea right now.

"What kind of music do you listen to?" Emily asks.

Nowadays, Emily has a strange relationship with music. There are certain songs that she can't help, but associate with Damon and then she ends up thinking about their breakup and it puts her in a bad mood. For all intensive purposes, Damon is music. Songs are his children. He lives and breathes it. With the end of their relationship, it's almost like he took custody and left her with nothing. A world without music is an empty, sad one, but until she finds a way to get Damon out of her head, Emily has no clue how to remedy this.

Music is good for one thing—conversation. It pulls a half-smile on Conrad's face and Emily chooses to concentrate on that. He really is good-looking. There's such a gentle quality to his eyes and such softness to his features. Emily can imagine him calling home every Sunday and having lengthy conversations with his mother, chatting like old friends.

"For the record, Dallas is straight up city. Buildings, buildings and more buildings. Honest to God, I have no clue why Austin goes around telling people I'm a hillbilly or a cowboy even if I look good in a cowboy hat if I do say so myself. But, yeah, I listen to country. Ray Charles. Patsy Cline. Johnny Cash. I was Elvis three Halloweens in a row. Willie Nelson—"

"Taylor Swift?"

Conrad's smile grows. "Oh, definitely! A road trip with Swifty in an old convertible Mustang, eating peanut butter, bacon and banana sandwiches while she serenades me and I drive. Yeah, you caught me. The only reason I'm a gymnast is in hopes of some day getting famous enough to finally bump into her at some event. That right there is what dreams are made of."

Emily laughs, a lot more comfortable now than before. "I have some of her songs on my iPod, but the genre as a whole—not so much."

"Well, you are missing out, my friend. I can't think of any other genre appropriate for those nights when you're spending the summer on your uncle's farm—_real_ _country_—with your seven football obsessed cousins, all drunk, sneaking through farmlands, looking for a cow to tip."

Emily decides that had been way too descriptive to not have happened. Maybe the nickname _Cowboy_ is more appropriate than he thinks. "Is that your last moment of true happiness?"

"Nope. My last moment of true happiness would be earlier today when I fried up some Snickers bars." Emily makes a face and Conrad laughs like he expected that one too. "The trick is to freeze 'em before dunking 'em in batter and into the fryer. I kid you not, best thing I probably shouldn't have eaten. I'll give you the recipe along with a country music mixtape."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Emily warns him.

"Oh, don't worry. I intend to. It's a super secret recipe. You'll be the third to know. Only rule is to not tell Austin."

"Sounds easy enough," Emily agrees. "I work at this pizza place not far from here and all my coworkers are stoners. Once, after closing, they were deep frying pieces of cheese cake and this thing they called deep fried mac and cheese torture bombs."

Seriously, how did Carter manage to date Kaylie and hook up with Lauren? He's _so_ weird.

"Get out!" Conrad says excitedly. "Tell me it tasted amazing."

Emily shrugs her shoulders. "I wouldn't know. They offered, but I didn't try."

"Aw, Emily Kmetko, something tells me you missed out. Next time, you gotta try it. If not for your taste buds, then for me."

Emily bounces on the tips of her toes. "I'll think about it."

"Good enough for me." Conrad has this genuinely goofy quality that Emily finds nice to be around. "And your last moment of true happiness?"

She hates to bring down the mood especially when they've finally gotten the ball rolling, but a specific memory surfaces. Emily thinks of Damon and the last time they kissed, lounging on the couch while Lauren and Razor flirted and denied they were flirting and beautiful, blunt Henley said whatever her genius brain could come up with to annoy her brother.

Noticing Emily's blank stare, Conrad guesses, "It involves an old boyfriend, huh?"

_Bingo_.

Before Emily can respond, Conrad holds out a hand. "Wanna dance?"

"No," Emily says slowly. "I, um, I don't dance. Trust me. You don't want to see me try."

"I'll let you in on a little secret." Conrad moves towards her, but only a little. "I don't either. I kinda just thrash around and pretend everyone isn't looking at me like I'm having a seizure."

She's back to laughing again. Just like that. "You know, I think I can do that."

"Oh, I bet you'll excel at it." Conrad takes her hand and leads her off.

The room is hot from the surge of people constantly coming in and out. Conrad wasn't joking about his style of dance. He throws his long, muscular arms around and moves his feet in a repetitive manner as if he's _trying_ to do the Snoopy dance. Emily just laughs and goes with it because it isn't like she cares about what any of these people think of her anyways. He takes her hand and spins her in a circle and Emily laughs, swaying to the electric beat.

"I lied," Conrad tells her. "My last moment of _true_ happiness was further back with an old girlfriend, first and only girl I ever loved. She's a topnotch poker player, robbed grown men blind, kicked my ass for sure. See, I've got no pokerface, too honest, she said. The one and only time she let me win, showed me her cards, I knew she was in love with me too."

Emily slows to a stop as she listens to him and they're two people standing still, surrounded by bodies that can't and won't stop moving. She looks at Conrad's face, feels the heartache and envies the threads of warm nostalgia throughout.

"Does it get any easier?" Emily asks.

"Eventually," he replies. "To be honest, I haven't quite closed the door on that one just yet, but I think that's how first love is and always will be. My life was going left and hers right and it hurt at first, but now I'm just enjoying the ride. No matter what happens in the future, we'll always have that moment and, yeah, I was truly happy."

Another song plays, just as high energy as the last and as they dance, Emily notices Alison's friend, Mona, looking their way. She knows the look of a lioness on the prowl, animal eyes on Conrad. He seems to notice her too, a big dopy smile on his face. Conrad turns to Emily and she finds it a little flattering that he wants her opinion. They already feel like friends.

"I don't know if you want to go there," Emily warns him.

"Why not? She ain't the kind of girl I can take home to meet my mamma?" Conrad asks. It's like he already knows the answer, but just doesn't want to believe it.

"More like the type of girl who'll worship you when she's drunk, but hate you when she's sober." Emily has a few classes with Mona, a lower rung Royal. "Also a rich, snobby bitch."

"So we can dance and I won't have to worry about her stalking me?"

Emily nods. "Probably. As long as you make it super clear that you're not looking for commitment and don't use your Worlds conversation starter. Actually, don't mention that you're going to be a super awesome Olympian some day. Something tells me she can go from Too Cool for You to Gold Digger pretty fast."

"Sage advice, Emily Kmetko. I think you're pretty awesome too. You don't mind, do you?"

Emily gives him the okay to go be a normal girl-chasing dude for at least a little bit and he touches the back of her head and gives her one last smile before swimming through the crowd and making his way over to Mona, the Dragon Lady. Stuffy and sweaty, needing to get out of the crowd and fast, Emily heads for the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

"Wow, Teach, I didn't know you could get down like that."

Lowering her water bottle, Emily realizes Ike is with her, leaning against the counter. Of course. Who else calls her that? Emily takes a breath and mutters, "Thank you?"

"I'd ask you to dance, but I'm kind of on the job." Ike pulls up the sleeve of his jacket and Emily sees a wad of cash in his palm, folded over and wrapped up in a rubber band.

"And you get to keep all of that?"

"My supplier gets a cut. Lauren gets a cut since I use her house as the drop-off, Rodge too, but the rest is mine. Most of it goes to paying the bills and taking care of the rugrats, but it's still more than I'd make if I was slinging dough with you every day after school."

"And weekends," Emily adds. "I gotta admit I'd much rather have your kind of dough."

Ike's eyes caution her, trying to put out her sparking interest before she starts getting in to the wrong business with the wrong people. She thinks it's sweet of him to try to protect her but it's not like Emily would seek out drug dealers. It isn't her.

"So the guy you were dancing with…I don't think I've seen him around before."

"Yeah, he doesn't go to Taft."

"Oh," Ike says in a way that makes Emily suspicious. "So is he the guy that makes LoTan all giggly whenever she gets a text from? I, um, I'm just asking out of curiosity…yeah."

Emily laughs. Ike and Lauren? Poor kid. That's never happening.

"No. The guy I was dancing with is Conrad. The guy Lauren's always texting is my stepbrother, Razor," Emily explains. She reads Ike's confusion and goes on, "Yeah, weird name, I know. Anyways, he lives in California. They met last summer."

"Interesting," Ike says. "What does he look like?"

Emily pulls up a mental image of Razor. "Hmm, tall and skinny. He has amazing hair, but telling him that is a world of trouble. He has green eyes…" Ike self-consciously runs his fingers through his dark hair that matted to his forehead from the sweat and Emily can't take it anymore. "You have a crush on Lo?"

"Crush," Ike says nervously. "What are we, in the third grade?"

"Sometimes it feels like it."

"I'm just curious," Ike reassures her.

"Sure."

"I'm serious!" he shouts in a very third grader way.

Emily could go on and on teasing him about liking Lauren and blame him for making her suddenly miss Razor, but there's a commotion across the kitchen and the two look over to find Rodge (Mr. Red Beanie) getting into a fight with one of the Royals, Glen, shooting guard for the basketball team and lover of candy canes. When she sees Ike innocently holding back, Emily scolds him and grabs him by the sleeve of his jacket, dragging him over.

"Get your hands off me," Rodge says flatly. That's the first time Emily has heard him speak. "What's your problem, man?"

"My problem is I have to breathe the same air as Rejects like you!"

"Ike, do something!" Emily urges. Ike shakes his head to show his protest, but Emily doesn't care and gives him a shove. He stumbles forward and is confused as to what she wants him to do. Ike is clearly no match for Glen.

"Hey," Ike says with uncertainty. He clears his throat, grabs a bigger set of balls and puts a hand on Glen's letter jacket, pushing him off of Rodge. "Bro, back off."

"Bro, I'm not your bro. Fuck off, faggot." With one arm, Glen shoves Ike back and actually makes him lose balance. Luckily, Emily is there to catch and steady him. "I get that you're everyone's hookup for drugs and shit, but I am so sick of having to deal with you and your dirty ass friends."

"Well, if you don't plan on kicking your coke addiction then you're just going to have to deal with it," Emily speaks up. The boys all look her way, wondering when this became her business. Glen shoves Rodge away, more interested in giving Emily a hard time when, to everyone's surprise, Carter steps up beside her.

Glen sizes him up. "Are you high, Anderson?"

"Yes, I am!" Carter answers, honest and proud. "But it doesn't mean I can't kick your ass. Leave her alone and walk away, Glen."

"Barbarians, before you start a pissing contest and tear the kitchen apart, I have an idea," Rodge says, straightening his jacket, moving between Ike and Emily. "If you don't want to do business with us directly then you can go through our…newest associate." He nods to Emily. "What's your name again?"

Emily blinks. "What?"

Ike shakes his head. "Dude, leave her out of this."

"Emily Kmetko?" Glen says. "My tutor?"

"Yeah, she's our new in-between-er person," Rodge continues. He pulls a cell phone out of his pocket and hands it over to Emily. She doesn't understand, but takes it anyways. "Emily will set up the trade, talk to us and get you what you want. We've always run a sloppy business. We could use someone with actual organizational skills and I've seen her locker."

Emily blinks again. "You have?"

"Yeah." He chuckles in a way much too soft for his rouged exterior. "I bet Martha Steward would want to live in there."

"Are _you_ high?" Emily asks, dead serious.

"Obviously," Ike says as Rodge answers, "No."

Glen looks completely lost, which isn't anything new. "Foreal? I am so down. Get a little homework help and get a little weed."

"Two birds and one satisfied stoner," Rodge pitches.

Glen leers at Emily. "Plus, you're a lot nicer to look at than these freaks."

Emily finds that more than odd. After all, she's always considered herself one of the freaks.

"It isn't a bad idea," Carter says from her side. Emily still has no idea why Carter stepped up, ready to protect her like that. His unknown loyalty makes Emily feel a little bad for all the things she's said and thought behind his back. "Emily runs a clean kitchen at the Shack. She is perfect for the job."

"See, she works at the Shack," Rodge says. "You always know where to reach her if need be."

"Dude, can you not make decisions when you're high?" Ike interjects. "And you didn't even ask Emily what she thinks of this. Rodge, dude, just shut the fuck up."

"Sounds good," Glen agrees, ignoring Ike completely. He gives Emily a look over and apparently deems her worthy. "Whatever gets you fucking idiots out of my face works for me. We'll be in touch, Tutor Girl."

Emily frowns in a _hey, it's only okay when Lauren calls me that!_ But Glen is already gone so she doesn't get the chance to say it. Carter does that thing where he makes a fist and bumps it against her shoulder before he too disappears, leaving Emily with the boys from Laguna.

"Jesus, they call themselves Royals? More like _Where the Wild Things Are_. Have you seen that film, Benzinger?" Rodge laughs, bending over to pick his beanie up off the ground. He plops it atop the back of his head and pulls it over his large ears. "It's more fun when you're high."

"Why'd you do that?" Ike demands, giving his friend a shove.

"Share the wealth, man." Rodge nods to Emily again, but this time his eyes stay on her. They burn. "Consider this my contribution to starting your Get The Fuck Out of Laguna fund."

"You can back out if you want and no one is going to give you shit for it," Ike reassures her. This is all happening so fast it makes Emily's head spin.

"We make good money," Rodge argues. "It isn't like you have to touch the drugs. You don't. Ike and I take care of all that. You just have to deal with the Neanderthals and considering you tutor said primitive beings I'd say you've had practice. And you need to keep track of what Royal dick wants what and when, keep a ledger. I know you could use the money. We all could use the money."

Emily doesn't like this, but she knows he has a point. It isn't like she's dealing with mean, horrible drug dealers. It's Ike, who's her friend (as strange as that is) and Mr. Red Beanie, her savior. They're all waiting for her reply and Emily takes a deep breath before she answers, "Okay. I'm in."

…

Payson doesn't usually go to Lauren's parties, but it is a Saturday night and she doesn't have practice the next day. It's nice to get out of the house, especially since she's still a little upset over her mom conspiring with Marty. Kim assured Payson that she didn't tell Marty about Kelly being drunk and passing out at their house, just expressed her concern in general. Payson believes her, but needs some space regardless.

She isn't a fan of PDA, but it is nice to be away from the gym and be open about their attraction. There are so many people moving from place to place, but when she's with Austin, the havoc is reduced to background noise. Payson has never seen the appeal of lip-to-lip contact, all the swapping saliva and the strange sounds, but Austin is a great kisser. Sometimes his experience scares her, but he's sweet, willing to go slow and teach her.

Austin is so confident, his tongue making its move and though Payson begs herself not to lose control, body revolts against brain. No matter how warm he is and how good he tastes and how amazing this feels. When they pause for a breath, her brain and body come to an agreement—her lips need to return to the place they just were and fast.

"Well, well, well, look at Supergirl acting like a normal horny teenager for once. You have my total and complete approval." Lauren goes out of her way to be embarrassing as usual.

Smirking, Austin slides his arm around Payson and they both sits back against the loveseat. "Thanks for the invite," he says to Lauren.

"Anytime," she replies, filtering through the crowd with her eyes. "Ew, Emily is hanging out with Ike when there are all these hot, available, non-gross guys in the room. Kaylie is being a loser with her loser friends. You two are macking. Where'd your boy Conrad go?"

"Getting ideas, Lo?" Payson asks.

"Not me," Lauren says, holding a hand to her chest.

"I was planning on playing wingman and getting him laid," Austin says. "He flirts with the junior gymnasts—_Becca_—at the gym. I keep telling him if you can't pick her up from school cuz her mom didn't put you down as an emergency contact she's too young for you, bro."

"You're awful," Payson says, laughing. "Just not Em. Yes, Lo, I saw you trying to set them up."

"Surprise, surprise. I can't believe you noticed with Mr. Famous' tongue down your throat." Lauren flips her hair over her shoulder. "Even I wouldn't push Em into some DTF guy. I'm trying to get her back on her feet, not knock her on her ass all over again."

"Seems like a failed attempt if she's hanging with another dude and Conrad is hitting on Kelly Parker Knockoffs. I'm sensing a trend," Austin says, seeing Conrad talking to Mona. She doesn't look like Kelly at all aside from being petite and dark haired, but it's sort of there.

"So much for thinking he had taste," Lauren says, taking a sip of her drink as she watches.

"Guess I should go make him look good," Austin murmurs. Though he says it, Austin doesn't move, reluctant to leave Payson. "How about we go get a drink before I do?"

"I can take a hint," Lauren tells them. "Have fun."

Austin drags his body up and takes Payson by the hand, leading her to the kitchen. Austin's been knocking back a few beers, drinking at leisure and it makes Payson a little nervous, but not once does he pressure her to do the same so she doesn't worry about it.

"Hey! You're Austin Tucker, right?" asks Max Spencer. The dark-haired teen with the camera has such on excitement on his face. You'd think Austin is a god or something.

Austin paints on the smile he reserves for fans. "That's me."

Before Max can ask for a picture or an autograph, Maeve snorts, walking towards them. Austin's smile fades, eyes taking on a dazed quality, as he looks Maeve up and down. "You know this is a Lauren Tanner party, right? No offense, but why on earth would someone who's been to the Olympics be here?"

At first Payson thought Lauren was just jealous of Maeve's friendship with Kaylie, but now Payson even sees it and feels it. Why is Kaylie hanging out with this girl?

"Lauren's a good friend of mine, actually." Austin's reply surprised Payson and the rest of the room, their faces dropping, stunned. He looks around and announces, "Lauren Tanner is one of the coolest people I know. She doesn't discriminate. She even lets haters into her party."

Maeve turns in a 360-degree circle, shooting everyone looks daring him or her to laugh at her and watch their popularity plummet. Payson smiles almost as wide as Austin, glad she's on the path she chose, away from silly high school hierarchy.

"Okay, I could use that water now," Payson says, pulling Austin away. Max shouts something about wanting a picture, but the two gymnasts keep walking. "That was really great what you did back there. You didn't have to. Lauren is used to dealing with people like that."

"Don't mention it," Austin says. "Who is that girl anyways?"

"Maeve Benson. She's Kaylie's friend."

"Have you noticed how, well," Austin hesitates, but then blurts it out, "she's _lethal skinny_?"

"She's an aspiring model. I think she's proud of her stick-like, vaguely inhumane proportions. Why? Do you think there's something more there?"

"Just a bad vibe." Austin tries to shake the feeling and goes to the refrigerator. They hang out for a bit, play a game of I Spy: Drunk High School Party Edition and when Payson spies Conrad crashing and burning with a different Kelly Parker Knockoff, one who resembles Kelly to a downright eerie degree, Austin decides to go into wingman mode and save the day.

After a quick trip to the bathroom (she gets an express pass when Lauren snaps her fingers and the line in front of the door disperses) Payson spots Nicky. She hasn't heard from him since texting him a couple days back. Payson decides to approach him just as Nicky runs up to Max and slams him into the wall, rattling a framed photo of Lauren as a child.

"The hell, Nicky!"

"Cut the crap, Max. You know what this is about!"

"Well, if you took your arm off my windpipe maybe you could explain it to me because I have no clue why you just attacked me out of the blue!" Max shouts. Nicky has his forearm up against Max's throat, pinning him to the wall.

"Kelly," Nicky says in this deadly, shaking voice. "I saw those stupid pictures you took of her and put on your stupid blog! What the hell, Max?"

"And why would you have a problem with that? Last I checked, you aren't even friends with Kelly Psycho anymore." Nicky doesn't say anything, but his grip on Max loosens until they're on opposite sides of the hallway. Max squints his eyes and then shakes his head angrily. "Unbelievable. You're seeing her again, aren't you? Behind Kaylie's back?"

"Don't act like I'm the one on trial here," Nicky says. "How did you even get those pictures?"

"Well, there was a party. There was tequila. I think you can figure out the rest."

Watching the interaction between the cousins, Payson doesn't think she's seen Nicky show so much emotion before. She's so used to him as Kaylie's nice, quiet boyfriend. This side of him is one she never even knew existed. It only makes sense that it's over Kelly.

"Nicky, I don't see why you're being like this. If anything, it's karma. Kelly Parker has always been a horrible person. I thought you were finally starting to realize that, but apparently not if you're hanging out with her again. What that psycho bitch has over you I'll never understand."

That's the last straw for Nicky who moves his hands to Max's throat and starts to strangle him.

"Nicky, stop!" Payson rushes over.

"I want you to take those pictures off _now_!" Nicky shouts. Payson uses all her strength to pull the boys apart. When Nicky finally lets go, barreling through his anger and recognizing Payson's pleas, he leaves Max coughing and rubbing his reddening neck.

"Nicky," Max coughs, "you," another cough, "need to lighten up."

"_Now_, Max."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Max asks exasperatedly. "I need a computer."

"We can use Lauren's," Payson suggests. Both boys look as if they're just noticing her now. She knows she's intruding on a family affair, but it does concern Kelly and as far as Payson's concerned, Kelly is family. "I can show you and I know her password."

Nicky thanks her, his face softening till he resembles Kaylie's coy boyfriend again. Payson nods to the stairs and the cousins follow.

When Payson pushes on the door to Lauren's bedroom, it creaks open and they're all shocked to see Alison inside, alone. She gives a lofty, drunken laugh, murmurs something about this not being a bathroom, grabs her large leather bag and walks out. Something about that didn't feel right, but Payson has other, more pressing things on her mind at the moment.

"So this is Lauren Tanner's bedroom, huh?" Max tries to whistle even though he can't.

"Don't touch anything," Payson snaps, knowing Lauren would be pissed if she knew they were in there. She grabs Lauren's laptop on the edge of the vanity and boots it up, sitting on the edge of the bed. "So, Nicky, when's the last time you saw Kelly?"

"Yeah, Nicky, I'd like to know too." Max is across the room, playing with Lauren's camera.

"Dinner with our dads," Nicky replies. "I don't think she had a choice and she wasn't happy about it. She didn't even directly tell me about the pictures. I had to hunt for them myself. I don't know what to tell you, Payson. I don't even know how to talk to her anymore."

"I can relate. The one time I tried to, she was drunk and passed out on my couch."

"Quick question," Max says. "Why do you even care? Seriously, I need to know or it'll drive me crazy. I had to sit by and watch that—for the lack of a better word—_psycho_ treat Nicky like crap and still he'd do anything for her when she wouldn't even call him her boyfriend."

Nicky is quick to disagree. "The fact that you think that just goes to show you have no clue what you're even talking about."

"Whatever." Max scoffs. "All I know is you're at a good place. I'm not ashamed to call you my cousin and all because of Kaylie. She's a nice girl and one of my friends, Nicky. If you're telling me Kaylie is going to get hurt in whatever sick game you and Kelly _have always been playing_, that's not cool. Kaylie doesn't deserve that. Just think before you do something stupid, okay?"

"Don't pretend you're doing this for my sake or Kaylie's," Nicky says. There's that anger mixed with defensiveness creeping up his throat and coating his words. "Max, you've hated Kelly ever since you hit on her and she told you to get lost."

Payson smiles. Now that makes perfect sense.

"Okay, I'll be the first to admit she's attractive, but that doesn't change the fact that she has the personality of a hammerhead shark," Max says. Though they're friends, Payson isn't disillusioned. She knows that also makes perfect sense.

"Like your girlfriend is any better?" Nicky scowls. "And you think Kelly is a horrible person?"

"And I'm sure your car is bigger than his car too. Can we please focus?" Payson turns the laptop towards Max who's now sitting at Lauren's vanity with a pen in hand, writing on a piece of pink stationary. He stops and walks over to where Nicky and Payson are.

With fingers racing across the keyboard and a few clicks of the trackpad, Max accesses his blog—The Maximalist. He owns the domain and it seems he plans to hang on to the site for a long time. It acts as a portfolio of pictures that Max has taken, from the artistic to headshots of his girlfriend to events he's been to. He brings up the infamous pictures.

Payson winces. "That's not the Kelly Parker I know."

"Me neither." Nicky sneaks looks at the screen, standing over Max to make sure he deletes it. "Max, if a bunch of your friends have this as their desktop backgrounds, I swear—"

"No one does, okay? I don't just give away my pictures away for free. For one, I watermark all of them and I enabled an htaccess file that prevents people hotlinking my images. If that isn't enough, I block the right-click function. I have a disclaimer so if you steal one of my pictures I'll sue and the only way to really steal it is to print screen, but the guys who look at my site aren't smart enough to figure that anyways."

"Good," Nicky says. "And I want your backup copies."

"Why? So you can jack off to them? Nicky, dude."

"No. Because I know it isn't safe with you. You're just going to do something stupid with it," Nicky says matter-of-factly. "Tomorrow I'm coming by and you're going to give me every copy you have. Digital. Print. JPEG. GIF. If not…" Nicky's voice trail off, running his fingers through his hair. "If not, grandpa's going to find out who really wrecked his Aston Martin."

Max's face goes pale. "You wouldn't."

"For Kelly? You want to test me, Max?" Nicky says. "And if you already sold the rights to a reporter or something then you bet I'll tell everyone—the family, Maeve—why Hector left and what you had to do with it."

Payson doesn't know to what he's referring, but from Max's blank face, it's life altering.

"Come by around noon," Max says in a low, dead voice. "I haven't sold it to anyone though I can't say I didn't consider it." Max clicks around on the laptop before handing it back to Payson for inspection. "There. It's done. I hope you aren't mixing up who you're trying to protect and who you should be protecting."

Before leaving, Max goes over to the vanity and folds up the pink piece of paper he'd been writing on. He tucks it beneath Lauren's camera and leaves. Nicky double checks the website, refreshes and checks again before letting out a long sigh.

"Did she say anything else when you saw her last?" Payson asks him.

Nicky looks like such a wounded animal. "You know how when Kelly convinces herself of something then that's it?" Payson nods. "She thought I had something to do with those pictures when I had no idea. It just…sucks. I can't even think of trying to snap her out of this self-destruction thing when she can't even trust me enough to hear me out."

His eyes glaze over like he's replaying their last meeting in his head and seeing him like this makes Payson feel so helpless.

"I had no idea," she says. "And I believe you when you say you didn't."

"Thanks, Payson. At least someone does."

A light bulb goes off in her head and Payson knows the perfect way to lift his spirits at least a little. She reaches for her phone. "There's good in all this."

"What could possibly be right when everything feels this wrong?" Nicky asks. There's something so poetic about how he says it and Payson wonders if he picked that up from Faith or if Faith picked that up from him. "I miss her, you know? Kelly. I miss how things used to be. If I could do it over, I would have done everything differently."

That puts everything on pause. It brings back what Max just said about Kaylie. Maybe she should be protecting Kaylie. While Kelly's reputation is on the line, so is Kaylie's heart. Why does helping one friend rise from rock bottom have to mean bringing down another?

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying you aren't happy with Kaylie?"

"No. That's not what I'm saying," Nicky assures her. "It's, like, in that area of my life, my relationship with Kaylie, it isn't perfect, but we always work through it, I care about her and like being with her. But it's getting harder to just concentrate on that part while everything else falls apart. My life as a whole…it's not so great right now. Did that make any sense?"

Payson relaxes a little. "I get it," she says, not knowing how else to respond. She feels the same about her gymnastics life, which is going fantastically and her home life, where her dad is still desperately seeking a job closer to home and her social life, where her friends are complicated and messy. "At least we'll have Faith soon enough."

"You talked to Faith?"

"She's been in New York for a while now," Payson explains, perplexed. "You honestly didn't know? She hasn't texted you?"

"Stupid," Nicky murmurs. "I got a new phone and a new number."

"Yeah, she said she's coming back."

Nicky smiles the biggest smile Payson has ever seen on him. Faith never actually mentions a specific date when she talks about coming back to Colorado, but, clearly, they need her here almost as much as she probably needs them.

…

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: So far, this chapter was the most fun to write. We don't know about you, but this Nicky/Payson friendship stuff was fun to write and Kaylicky, oh, sweet and kinda hot yet insecure and messy Kaylicky. Plus, how adorable is Conrad? What is it about our favorite four that parties never really work out with them?

**Review**.

#WeFab #LLD2 #LLDforever


	8. My Stupid Mouth

**Warning**: Hold onto your hearts, lovers, someone's must break.

* * *

><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

Why do things often fall apart without warning? Kaylie will never understand.

She didn't know she had some responsibility to alert Payson whenever Kelly Parker fucks up. That's not her job. She shouldn't have to babysit someone she doesn't know or like and Payson shouldn't either. It's already annoying to think Kelly Parker has the power to crack her relationship with Nicky, but her friendship with Payson too?

Nicky calls her the very next morning like he said he would, but Kaylie ignores it. After a good night's sleep, Kaylie is willing to admit she overreacted over I Never, but Nicky made things worse then left her at the party. She isn't ready to especially when the Cruz castle is chaotic.

Hours before the baptism Amelia wails for attention while AJ and Shauna are busy, trying to get dressed. Ronnie paces in heels, holding her phone to her ear, repeatedly dialing Alex just to be sent to voicemail every time. Leo runs around, trying to contain the madness. Meanwhile, Kaylie is preoccupied with thoughts on relationships and friendships.

Her phone buzzes. Nicky again. Kaylie ignores it and then texts him back:

_Stay away from me. I'm with my family this weekend._

Once it's send, Kaylie shuts her phone off and leaves it on the corner of her bed. In strappy sandals, she leaves the safety of her room and embraces the insanity that is her family.

"Alright," Kaylie says. "I propose we turn off all our cell phones for the day!"

"Like that's going to happen. You have to surgically remove Ronnie's phone from her ear," AJ says. He's looking clean and crisp, wearing an Armani suit, pressed navy jacket with restrained saddle shoulders paired with brown trousers and a soft gray oxford. It's like he woke up, thinking he's a celebrity attending a movie premiere.

"It's _mom_. Aje, you're supposed to call her _mom_ at least for the weekend," Leo scolds. His outfit is less showy than AJ's, an emphasis on how different they are. Leo goes classic, a plain white oxford with dark pants and his face shaved clean for the occasion.

"Okay, one of you boys needs to hold the Little Lamb because mommy needs to put her face on," Shauna says, handing Amelia to AJ. Blonde hair up in curlers, her face is bare, but still beautiful. The dress she's wearing is soft and drapey with a sexy sequined mesh back. Kaylie wants to ask where she bought it, but Shauna frantically races out of the room.

"Someone's looking a little idle," AJ says, shifting Amelia in his arms and inspecting her. "Maybe we should juice her with pixie sticks like they do on Toddlers and Tiaras."

"No, AJ!" Kaylie, Leo and even Shauna who pops her head into the room just in time shout together. AJ lifts Amelia up over his head, cooing until she gives him a little giggle.

"Dude, you watch that show?" Leon inquires. "It's practically child abuse."

"What? Shauna and I like to bet money on who takes home the Grand Supreme."

"Wow," Kaylie says, dumbstruck. "That's such an AJ answer. I am not surprised at all."

Twenty minutes later, Shauna comes back into the room, completely transformed. Her hair falls in perfect curls and her make up is light yet flattering, lips stained a sinful red. Shauna takes Amelia, who's still in AJ's favorite onesie, "I Pooped" written on it, and asks Kaylie for assistance. The girls go to the nursery where the furniture is all new, barely used, and the walls are painted with alternating pink and white horizontal stripes.

Shauna lets Amelia sit on a changing table and holds up the gown for Kaylie to see. It's tiny and all white lace with gorgeous floral patterns created by embroidered threads of pearl beading. Ronnie had it specially designed and made. There isn't another dress like it.

Watching Shauna get the kicking baby into her dress, Kaylie laughs. The sound in the silence catches Shauna's attention and she arches an eyebrow that's darker than her hair.

"What?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Kaylie says, waving away Shauna's suspicion. "Just, if someone told me _AJ_ was going to be a dad and you'd be the mom back when I was a freshman, I wouldn't have believed it. Now look at all of us…on our way to church."

"Hilarious, isn't it?" Shauna laughs. "I can't think of bigger sinners than AJ and me and now we're bringing our daughter to church to be welcomed into the Christian community and live a life of Christ? Pure comedy. This isn't how I pictured life after high school, that's for sure."

"UC Santa Barbra, right?" Kaylie asks. "That's where you were going before…"

"Yup. Feels like a whole other life," she says, trying to not lose her daughter in all the ruffles. "Sometimes I wonder what it could've been like, but I don't let it get to me. I have this beautiful baby girl," Shauna tickles Amelia who giggles, "and AJ is AJ. It could be worse."

"You're right. You could be trying to save a relationship with a guy who tells you he wants to be with you, but refuses to actually be with you." Kaylie doesn't know where that came from. She ignores her little slip and stares at her reflection in the full-length mirror, smoothing down her floral print mini dress, lost in the fuchsias and marigolds and white flowers against black rayon. "Sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"You're talking about the guy from the other day? Nicky?"

Shauna seems interested so Kaylie tells her. It isn't like Kaylie has anyone else to talk to about this. Ronnie is preoccupied and it would be weird anyways. It'd be even weirder to try to get her brothers to listen to her and they'd probably take it as permission to give Nicky a beating. As upset as she is, Kaylie wouldn't want that ever.

"Someone told me about one of his past hookups in front of _all_ my friends and I might have freaked out."

"Were you together at the time?"

"No," Kaylie replies. "And I know it's stupid to think he didn't hook up with other girls before we started dating, but…it sucks finding out from other people and it scares me that he's afraid to be honest with me. Then there's this whole other issue about how every time we get close to, _you know_…sleeping together, he flips out and everything just falls apart."

"Did you ever ask why he flips out?"

"Talking about things that matter isn't exactly our strong point."

"Well, from what I saw, he seems pretty into you," Shauna reassures her. "You just need to talk. No matter how scary that might seem. There's no being in a relationship where you're both afraid to talk to each other. If that's the case, you might as well break it off now."

"Breaking up is the last thing I want, but what if he won't talk to me?" Kaylie asks. "Every time I try we end up fighting and I hate fighting with him, but I don't know how else..."

"Jason was always like that, keeping secrets with his friends," Shauna reminisces. "We'd get into fights every time I asked questions. Then it just got to the point where I stopped asking. I played good little girlfriend and smiled pretty and I know everyone thought I had it so easy in high school and I guess I did, but it doesn't mean I was happy."

"And how did that turn out for you?"

"Five minutes after we broke up I got _really_ drunk, slept with your brother in his stupid car and ended up pregnant," Shauna says with a laugh, pushing a curl off her cheek. "If anything, Kaylie Cruz, learn from my sins."

Kaylie smiles. "I'll try."

"And the finishing touch." Shauna gently hands Amelia over to Kaylie to hold upright in her arms as Shauna gets her little white shoes on over her baby feet. Shauna then arranges Amelia's dark, wavy hair and clips a white bow on.

"She looks like a little angel," Kaylie says, cradling her niece in her arms.

"Looks can be deceiving. She is all Cruz," Shauna says, scowling, but in good humor. She then smiles at Amelia, tickling her tummy. "Isn't that right? Amelia, who am I?"

Amelia smiles with her mouth open and points to Shauna with both hands. "Mama!"

"That's my girl. Come on, baby, let's get you religious-ized."

Kaylie passes Amelia back over to her mother, who gives her a kiss on the cheek. The three start to make their way to the door.

"Hey, Shauna, do you, um…do you ever miss Jason?"

Pausing in the doorway, Shauna gives the question some thought. "Sometimes, but not in a sad way. I miss him like I miss high school, but at the same time I'm glad it's over." Seeing her pensive stare, Shauna touches Kaylie's shoulder and gives her a warm smile. "Trust me, the last thing you want to do is compare Jason and me to Nicky and you. Your boyfriend is _much_ better looking."

Kaylie laughs, surprisingly comfortable. Shauna was the Regina George of Taft her senior year and led the freshmen hazing. Kaylie remembers being afraid of her. Now it's like she's family.

"_Damn_, look at my favorite girls ready for a night in the clubs." AJ holds his phone up for a picture. Shauna has one arm around Amelia and pulls Kaylie closer with the other. "Smile."

"Alexander, we're late as is," Shauna says through her smile. Kaylie sniggers every time she calls him that. Shauna does it like she's the only one who can and she sort of is.

Right when AJ snaps the photo, they hear: "THE CEREMONY STARTS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES!"

"We're being summoned," Shauna says, taking one last look in the closest mirror. "Is your mom always like this?"

Kaylie and AJ exchange knowing smiles. AJ chuckles. "Welcome to the family, Shawnee."

They drive like mad with Leo behind the wheel and Ronnie beside him, complaining about Alex's absence. The chapel is the same one they'd attend when they were the type of family that went to mass every Sunday. It has a beautiful, white stone exterior with stain glass windows. Kaylie has memories of her first confession and communion, all under this roof. She knows it's silly, but as a little girl, Kaylie always imagined getting married in this exact chapel.

Inside, other families are waiting patiently. The other couples are much older and less dressed up. Darby, designated godmother, is there when they arrive. It's strange to see her dancing on a table and advocating underage drinking one night and preparing to guide Amelia on a path to God mere hours later. What were Shauna and AJ thinking when they chose her?

The priest, Father Jack, had been close to Alex when he was living in Boulder and insists they wait for him, stalling the ceremony. Ronnie is having a meltdown despite her happy smile and Kaylie and AJ do their best to reach him, keeping a lookout and trying his phone again.

Alone with AJ, Kaylie has to asks, "What were you thinking making Darby the godmother of your child?"

"It was Shauna's call," AJ says, quick to pass off the blame. "If it was up to me, it'd be Lo."

Confusion and shock tears through Kaylie as she whips her head in her brother's direction. "Lo? _My_ Lo? Lauren Tanner? Do you even know what it means to be a godparent?"

"Her and Leo. They both helped me out big the summer Shauna got pregnant and they both helped out again when we found out Shauna kept her. It only makes sense to me, but Darby is like a sister to Shauna. Dar walked her through things when she first thought she was pregnant and sent her money and stuff when she was first starting out."

"Thank God she did."

Kaylie's extreme relief draws AJ's attention away from his phone. "I thought you and Lo are cool again?"

"For now." Kaylie hates always expecting another fight, but it's become second nature. "Things aren't looking too great between me and Payson at the moment."

"Payson?"

"I know. Hard to believe, right?"

"You chicks are so high school and Payson isn't even in high school." AJ lifts his sunglasses to rest in his hair and focuses back on his phone. "No worries, Kales. You'll work it out."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're my baby sister and the other three are your kid friends running around the castle all crazy. I've seen you together. You won't stay apart long," AJ says, so sure of himself and his logic that isn't exactly logical. "For now, we got family shit to deal with so keep that chin up, huh?"

Kaylie stares wearily. "Was that a pep talk?"

"Sure? Call it what you like, Kales."

Suddenly, Ronnie comes out of the church, panicking, and ruins the brother-sister moment.

"Where is your father? All the other families are here and we're waiting for _him_! This is unbelievable and so typical Alex! The entire ceremony is put on pause and everyone is wondering why and, oh, it's because of the Cruz circus!"

"Mom, you need to calm down," Kaylie says. "If dad said he's going to be here then he will."

"He should at least call to tell us where he is or what's taking him so long."

"You know he doesn't just to piss you off," AJ points out.

"And you know AJ would say something like _that_ just to piss you off even more," Kaylie adds, shooting her brother a look that tells him to back off. "Don't listen to him, mom."

"I'm going to try his cell again…"

Ronnie curses when she's sent straight to voicemail and leaves her ex-husband a lengthy message, using words inappropriate so close to a place of worship. Meanwhile, Kaylie watches the stairs and zones out, imagining Nicky running towards her, dressed for the occasion. Even though she firmly told him to stay away, there's that part of her that wants to think he'll fight for her. He'll show up and defy her because he knows she needs him.

_"I'll always show up for you, Princess."_

As much as she wants to think one romantic gesture after the other can get them out of this slump, Kaylie's hope is dwindling. Life isn't a fairytale. The quicker she realizes this the quicker she'll adapt to disappointment.

It isn't Nicky who comes running up the stairs, but Alex, taking the stairs two by two, his tie flapping with every leap. He apologizes and wipes the sweat from his brows. AJ excitedly greets him with a handshake that turns into a hug and when he whispers, "Nena," Kaylie is in his arms. The greetings don't last long before Ronnie ushers them into the chapel.

After Alex has a quick, friendly word with Father Jack, they begin. It's a lovely ceremony from the moment the priest pours water over Amelia's head to when Leo lights the candle and him and Darby make their godparent vows. Being in church for the first time since Barcelona leaves Kaylie feeling rather strange. She lost touch with religion following the divorce and since the summer, but this baptism has sparked her interest once again.

Once they take at least a million pictures in front of the altar, the Cruz caravan makes its way to a local eatery for brunch. Instead of a little intimate family gathering like Kaylie imagined, Ronnie apparently invited a couple of her friends and their families. The Cruz family sits on one end of the long table and the other end is Ronnie's entourage. Amelia nods off the second they reach the restaurant and spends majority of the celebration in her stroller, asleep.

"So did anyone catch my latest game?" Alex asks.

"Baseball," Ronnie murmurs under her breath. "I should've known." Losing interest, she turns in the opposite direction and engages in a conversation about work and how crazy it's been.

"Rodrigo getting scratched from the lineup because of that thumb injury really hurt your game last Friday," Leo says. "It should've been a blow out, but they made you work for that W."

"Just goes to show, life will throw you curveballs, but if you've got the right attitude it won't stop you from taking home a win," Alex says. His kids exchange looks before they start booing him and loudly.

Kaylie laughs. "That might be the cheesiest thing I've ever heard you say."

"Yeah, save it for the Little League community service pep talks," AJ says.

"Tough crowd." Alex laughs at himself. "So, Kaylie, where's the boyfriend?"

She shrugs and sips her ice tea. "This is a family function."

"Though it seems mother didn't get the memo." AJ looks over to Ronnie's friends on the other end of the table, schmoozing. It seems Ronnie has disappeared completely, currently on her phone. Surprisingly, she doesn't seem as stressed as she normally is.

Reading Kaylie's apprehension, Leo asks, "What did he do? Nicky."

"Do we need a reason to beat the kid down?" AJ makes a fist and slams it against the open palm of his other hand. "Kaylie's face says it all. He lives in Denver, right?"

"No, Alexander, you're not going to touch him," Shauna says sternly. "They'll work it out themselves. Right now I think we should be talking about Beckman. When we were watching the latest game I thought there was a Toddler and Tiara on the mount. Mr. Cruz, you need to tell your pitcher to cool it on the spray tan."

"You two watch a lot of Toddlers and Tiaras in Palm Springs, don't you?" Kaylie asks.

They all laugh and the conversation weaves between baseball and child abuse—safer topics. They take turns picking on each other, questioning Leo's workaholic ways and trying to definite AJ and Shauna's relationship. The important thing is that Nicky never comes up again, which is good because Kaylie wouldn't know what to say if they asked.

The rest of the day is a quiet one spent at home by the fire. AJ and Shauna try to find the best skydiving service, serious about going through with it while Leo makes comments from behind his laptop and Kaylie keeps telling them it's a horrible idea. Alex encourages them to do it, always there to push AJ. Ronnie is nowhere to be found.

When Amelia finally wakes up, crazy hour begins. She crawls and tries to walk and screams her head off. There's something about watching Alex chase Amelia around the house that makes Kaylie really happy. If Alex was the same way with her when she was a child, there's no question why she's a daddy's girl and even moreso since Barcelona.

Late into the evening, Amelia's wind down hour finally arrives. The trick is to put on _Sesame Street_ and the girl is hooked. She sits in Kaylie's lap on the couch, eyes glued to the television, barely even blinking. The word of the episode is _galoshes_—rain boots—and Kaylie feels like an idiot because she had no idea what that was when she first heard Elmo say it.

There's giggling in the kitchen and Kaylie tilts forward, curious. If it's her parents, she doesn't even know how to react. Contrary to her fears, Kaylie catches glimpses of AJ whispering in Shauna's ear and the tall blonde giggling and pushing him away. They're cute in a totally unexpected way and Kaylie approves. She likes Shauna and she likes Shauna for AJ. Hopefully that whole thing with Lauren was just a phase that they're both over.

Alex comes over and sits with the girls, his jacket off and tie loosened. Distracted by the shift of the couch, Amelia sees her grandpa and crawls over to him, pressing her tiny hand to his cheek. Alex smiles and pulls her into his arms, softly whispering to her in Spanish.

"She likes you," Kaylie says.

Alex chuckles and shoots his daughter a grin. "That's so surprising because?"

"I don't know. It just is. Can you blame me?"

"I'm good with kids. You should have seen when you were little. All three of you. Your mom would get so upset when you'd ask for me instead of her at bedtime. Even AJ hated being separated from me and AJ was a finger-biter who never liked anyone."

Kaylie laughs at the mental image. "That I can believe."

Alex stretches his arm out across the back of the couch and Kaylie shifts closer towards him and Amelia. "So, how has your mom been?"

"Are you still ignoring each other?"

"We're civil enough, as you saw today," Alex explains, playing with a curl of Amelia's brown hair, "but I can barely get a word in with how she's always with her friends or answering her phone. Is she like this all the time?"

"Yeah, but it's not so bad. It's a lot better than it used to be."

"Well, I'm all yours for the next twenty-four hours. What do you want to do?" Alex asks. He actually sounds excited to be spending time with her and that in turn makes Kaylie less concerned about the problems in her life. "Want to join your brother and his…um, and Shauna on their skydiving adventure?"

"Yeah, I'm not doing that. No way."

Alex laughs. "It could be fun?"

Kaylie looks back at the television screen and sees a bunch of different animal puppets parading around and how fixated Amelia is.

"How about we take Little Lamb to the park? We can go on a picnic like we used to."

"Sounds perfect, nena."

Her family may be dysfunctional, but they're all there for each other and that's what matters.

…

One missed call. And it's from Henley Sheppard.

Emily has to read it twice to make sure. She blinks and taps the glass of the phone, thinking it's on the fritz. Henley never attempts to contact her. They aren't even Facebook friends. Why would Henley _call_? Henley hates talking to people on the phone. Henley hates _people_.

It isn't until homeroom that Emily notices the missed call. She has both her phones resting in her lap under the desk. One is her crappy silver flip phone that she's had since seventh grade and the other is sleek and black, the one Mr. Red Beanie gave her. The second one buzzes almost every ten minutes, a different Royal with a longstanding drug dependency.

The night after the party, Emily gets stuck between Lauren, who's passed out, and Payson, who murmurs in her sleep. Unable to sleep, Emily's mind is on her moral compass. Yes, she needs the money just as much as Ike and Rodge. It's an opportunity and she'd be stupid not to take it. Then again, she's working with drug dealers, which is also stupid.

Before the morning news starts, Marcus takes attendance. He looks around the room, a hopeful shine in his eye. "Roger Fields?"

"It's Rodge, actually. I go by Rodge. Roger sounds, well, gay."

Someone would probably comment on how that's offensive, but everyone is shocked.

"Rodge." Marcus makes a note on his attendance sheet. "Okay. Got it. Looks like everyone showed up to homeroom."

Shane raises his hand. "We should throw a pizza party!"

Dressed in his usual doorman's jacket and red beanie, Rodge takes the last desk in the back corner. The chatter starts up again and everyone loses interest except Emily. She turns in her chair, having the urge to reach out and touch him just to make sure he's really there.

"Did you eat breakfast?" he asks.

"Huh?"

"Breakfast," Rodge says. "First meal of the day, arguably the most important. Did you?"

"Yeah, with my friends. I had a bagel." Emily finds it a strange way to start a conversation, but Rodge is rather odd. "What about you?"

"Stale Fruit Loops. Dry. I would've liked some milk, but it expired months ago. No one even bothers to take the carton out of the fridge. That's just kind of how it is around my place."

"We live off leftovers from my mom's diner job," Emily says. "_Laguna Problems_."

Rodge laughs and it actually sounds genuine.

"As interesting as this is, what are you doing here?" Emily asks. "Or maybe I should ask where you've been all semester? You know homeroom isn't optional, right? It's every morning."

"You take school too seriously. High school is the government's way of keeping us in one place and supposedly out of trouble until we turn eighteen and they can lock us up for real."

Emily finds it frightening how that makes sense.

"At the risk of sounding like a stalker, I actually showed up for you, Emily Kmetko."

Her heart thumps hard, unexpectedly. "Me?"

Rodge leans forward on his elbows and Emily leans away. "I don't like to start anything long-term with strangers."

"And you think homeroom is the perfect time to get to know me?"

"You eat bagels. I eat stale Fruit Loops. I think we're off to a good start." Rodge smiles at her and Emily thinks it's a first. His teeth are white and clean, but not perfect. He has a bit of an overbite. Braces must not have been an option.

When the morning announcements begin, Emily faces forward and her attention goes to the TV screen in the corner. Losing interest in the little skit they put on to promote the Valentine's Day dance, Emily texts Razor beneath the desk.

_I have a missed call from Henley. Weird, huh? Know what that's about? _

Send.

The morning routine goes on. Mr. Matsui comes on to remind them that "sexual acts of any kind" are forbidden on school property and also littering. Glen, stands and gives a bow. Half the room claps and laughs while Marcus grabs Glen and shoves him back into his seat. Maeve closes out the announcements and seeing her onscreen reminds Emily of the party. Everything is cool between the three, but maybe not the Four.

"Go forth and learn things!" Marcus shouts, once the bell rings.

Emily rushes off, hoping to avoid Rodge, and it surprises her when he doesn't try to follow. Sitting in Economics, waiting for Lauren, Emily finds a reply from Razor on her phone.

_No clue. Hen's been acting weird tho. Cause for worry?_

Emily doesn't know. Henley is the type that'll get upset if Razor starts snooping and Emily doesn't want to be the reason they start fighting, especially over nothing. Maybe she pocket dialed on accident? That's what Emily tells Razor anyways.

The rest of the day goes by as usual until English. Emily is at her desk with Lauren to her left and an empty seat in front of her reserved for Kaylie. Marcus is their teacher, sitting at his desk, reading Tolkien to pass the time. When Emily points this out, Lauren replies, "I knew he's a sci-fi fantasy nerd beneath the hot. They always are."

Rodge walks in and Emily shrinks down in her seat. It's stupid because she's one of the taller girls in their class and isn't exactly invisible, especially when it comes to him. He tries to take Kaylie's seat and Lauren is quick to correct him.

"Sit there and die, beanie boy!"

Rodge looks between the blonde and the empty chair, appraising the situation. "It's reserved for me. Don't you see 'reserved for reject' right there?" Both girls look at the chair and think he's crazy. "Hmm, guess it doesn't." Rodge pulls a sharpie out of his pocket and uncaps it with his teeth, ready to write right on the back of the chair.

"What's going on?" Kaylie asks, coming up behind them. "That's my seat."

"I just told him that," Lauren sneers.

"You told me sit there and die. There's a distinct difference," Rodge says, the pen cap still in his mouth. He recaps it and tucks the sharpie behind his ear. "Okay, I can take a hint."

"You'd know that's Kaylie's seat if you actually showed up for class," Emily says. Rodge doesn't comment, just walks to the back of the room and takes a seat.

The bell rings and Marcus marks his page with a pack of sauce from Taco Bell.

"Okay!" Marcus shouts. "Cell phones, iPods, iPads, laptops, Teen Vogue, Sports Illustrated, hentai, put it all away! Class is starting. Lucky you, it's finally time to discuss one of my favorite books of all times: the Great Gatsby."

Marcus is a strange teacher probably because he's a strange person. Every lecture is more like a performance, like they're his audience and he's fighting to keep them interested. He gives a brief background of F. Scott Fitzpatrick and his tendency to let his life influence his writing. When their attention starts to dwindle, Marcus attempts to liven up the room.

"Okay, you all must have read it by now. You had all summer and all fall." Marcus pushes himself up to sit on his desk. "Let's hear it. Opinions?"

"It was boring as fuck," Shane says, high-fiving Glen right after.

"One man's opinion. And next time I'm betting you can find a better descriptive word than _fuck_," Marcus says. The room laughs. Profanity is one way to get teenagers to trust you. "Anyone else? Come on, if there wasn't a single person in here who enjoy the book—one of my favorites—I might literally cry right here in front of you."

As cheerleader and gossip queen, Theresa, expresses her, like, confusion, like, over the book, Lauren swiftly delivers a folded piece of paper to Emily. It reads:

_Give me something to say. Make me look smart!_

They spent all Sunday with Lauren inquiring about college and what it takes to get in. Grades and good teacher recommendation letters would be a start. The success of her friends is as important to Emily as her own so she scribbles something down and passes the note back to Lauren. It almost makes Emily giggle, a throwback to when they were in Mrs. Sherman's third grade class and Lauren would boast about being the best note passer in all of Boulder.

Lauren unfolds the note and reads it over, promptly raising her hand. Marcus spots her. "Lauren Tanner. Yes, you can go to the ladies' room, but you have to say Ms. Roy, the librarian, let you. It's karma for stealing my parking every morning for the past two weeks."

Marcus receives even more sniggers. Even Emily almost laughs and Kaylie totally does.

"Actually," Lauren says, "I wanted to comment on the eyes of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg." Marcus expression turns thoughtful and he tells her to go on. "I was just thinking about how the eyes painted over the billboard could maybe represent, I don't know, God."

A laugh comes from the back of the room. It's Rodge. Everyone turns in their seats to stare at him, but Rodge sets his eyes on Lauren. "Let me guess. SparkNotes?"

The room hoots, picking up the burn. Lauren is _pissed_; more so, Emily, who gave her the talking point.

"It's a valid observation," Emily says defensively, for Lauren and herself. "Ominous eyes overlooking corruption? It's a perfect analogy for God and people and the world."

"Okay, you two, time out," Marcus intervenes. "Rodge, I didn't even realize you were in this class or supposed to be. Two, it's a comfort to know some of you actually read and thought about it. Why don't we let Lauren finish then you each can have your turn. Lauren?"

The blonde flips her hair, eyes like daggers on Rodge. "All I have to say is it takes one to know one."

"I don't use SparkNotes," Rodge says in return. "I actually have a brain."

"And no Internet where he's from," Shane loudly whispers.

"Or laptops," Glen adds.

"Unless they're boosted," Alison says, rounding out the rich kid commentary.

The way they talk bothers Emily and so she has to change the subject.

"Then why don't you ever show up to class?" Emily asks, turning to look at Rodge.

"I do. You've just never noticed," he replies, giving Emily this specific look that makes her uncomfortable. "Homeroom, on the other hand, that shit's a waste of time."

"No, that doesn't hurt at all." Marcus mutters as loud as Shane whispers.

"If you're so smart then why don't you tell us something about Gatsby? Something you wouldn't find on SparkNotes." Emily sets forth a challenge.

"You want me to teach the class?" Rodge asks.

"Please," Lauren hisses, waving an arm out at Marcus to silence him.

Rodge straightens his beanie at the back of his head and hops up to sit on his desk. This might be the most attention he's gotten from anyone in his entire life. "The Great Gatsby is the Great American novel because it's filled with bullshit and America is built on bullshit."

"Okay," Marcus cuts in, "Rodge, nice attempt, but why don't you—"

"The epitaph," Rodge continues, "in the beginning of the book about the gold-hatted lover, supposedly written by some poet, F. Scott made it up. It's as fake as all the characters. And we can't forget the _gold_ all throughout. He has a real thing for it. Daisy is an example herself. Her name is literally a white flower with a yellow center. She plays dumb, that way nobody has expectations of her."

Rodge glances over at a group of cheerleaders a glance.

"My favorite thing about the book is that it's set in the Jazz Age, but it's true even today. Everyone—the Bucanans, Narrator guy, random party people—all crazy rich, but none of them did it by living the American Dream. Royals act like they have it all, but Tom is cheating on Daisy who wants her daughter to be an airhead because she thinks that's all you need to get through life. Richest of the rich, and guess what? No one's happy. No one's real. All bullshit."

At the end of his bitter spiel, Rodge jumps off the table and lands loudly on his feet. The entire room is silence. Rodge sits back down in his chair with a cool slouch.

"So you think you're better off being a Reject?" Alison asks.

"If you actually read it, you'd remember the part where Daisy tells the story about her butler," Rodge says. "He worked as a silver-polisher for some fancy ass family in New York, but eventually he had to quit because the cancer-causing chemicals and shit ruined his nose."

Rodge allows for a moment of silence, waiting for them to catch on.

When no one else steps up, Emily breaks it down for everyone. "He's saying—well, the whole novel, actually—is about wealth consuming the rich and Daisy's anecdote points out that wealth consumes the poor too."

Before the discussion can continue, the bell sounds and everyone starts to leave, shoving books in bags, anxious to get to the door.

"Alright!" Marcus shouts, trying to get everyone's attention. "Now that we've heard a few of your classmate's opinions, I want to know what you think. Specifically, how F. Scott portrays the rich and the American Dream both then and now? I want at least a page, typed and printed, and be prepared to discuss it in small groups next class!"

"Extra credit!" Rodge shouts. Some turn to listen while others, mostly Royals, keep walking and don't care. "If Lauren Tanner is right and the doc's eyes represent God then what does everyone think about the eyes all over Boulder?"

Everyone else keeps filing out, but Emily is stuck in her chair, thinking. The eyes all over Boulder overlook their own corruption. Emily can't help, but wonder if Rodge found this parallel between a fictitious world and their own or if he's responsible for it.

"Was that _something_ enough for you?" Rodge asks as he passes Emily's desk.

"Sure. A little condescending and biased…"

He groans in dramatized frustration. "Nothing pleases you, does it?"

"I think you really added to the class," Emily says, honestly. "You probably pissed off a lot of our classmates, my best friend included, but I guess you can't please everyone."

"I'd agree," Marcus says, walking up. "You did it with a few more expletives than the school board would like, but you made more than a few interesting points. You should come to class more often."

Rodge backs away, towards the door. "Sorry to disappoint Book Club, but if I'm not thrown out I'm dropping out. Just for you though, I'll give it some serious consideration."

Marcus shakes his head, disappointed. Emily gives him a sad smile before she follows Rodge out the door. "Marcus is just trying to be a teacher who actually gives a damn about us and you're kind of a jerk to him."

"I basically taught his class," Rodge counters. "How is that being a jerk?"

"Well, you're kind of a jerk to me."

The boy with a million arguments is about to speak, but stops himself. Then starts over. "Okay. Ike gave me this whole lecture about the party and I'm sorry. You can walk away and I won't be a jerk about it, but if you stay, the cash is pretty sweet and you have both Ike and me watching your back. You know you can trust him and I can _try_ to be a none jerk."

"Why am I having a hard time believing that?"

"I can prove it," Rodge says, determined. "Let's hang out after school. We can bike home."

Emily hugs her binder tight to her chest as they continue down the hall and she turns the idea over in her head. She planned on going straight home anyways. What's the difference if he rides home along side her, right?

"Okay," Emily agrees even though she looks seconds away from retracting it.

"Cool. I'll meet you at your locker after school."

Once Rodge walks away, Emily hurries to catch up with Lauren and Kaylie, who had been pretending not to eavesdrop, but secretly were.

"Emily has a bike date. Emily has a bike date," Kaylie teases, linking their arms.

"No," Emily says. "More like…the buddy system? It's a good thing where I come from."

"Whatever. Can you please clue me in," Lauren says, on the other side of Kaylie. "Is nerd debating the new nerd flirting? I had no idea what either of you were talking about, but I'll admit, even though I think he's a total tool, watching you get all worked up was pretty hot."

Kaylie playfully shoves Lauren and Emily smiles at the two being friendly. It's so rare that Emily hates to break it up with her next question.

"So, Kay, I guess you're meeting up Maeve now, aren't you?"

"Well, actually, I thought we could hang out, just the three of us. I'm sorry I bailed after the party, but between fighting with Nicky and then Payson, I was freaking out and just had to leave. Unless having me tag along interrupts your daily routine or something…"

"Sounds perfect!" Lauren agrees, surprisingly civil. "Em doesn't have any idiots to tutor today and I'm not going to the yearbook meeting thing. This way overdue if you ask me."

The three make their way to a quiet corner of the school, talk about classes and laugh about Mr. Matsui's awkward announcement. Kaylie tells them about her family weekend and shows them pictures. Lauren mumbles a few offhanded comments about Shauna just for Kaylie to defend the mother of her niece and Emily breaks the tension, pointing out how cute Amelia is.

Emily's last class goes by quicker than anticipated and before she knows it, she's riding home with Rodge. She usually takes the main roads, but Rodge shows her a different route, a shortcut through the lowest of the low-income houses. He's fearless as he pedals around heaps of garbage left carelessly in the street and Emily does her best to keep up.

"So if you're into books then why don't you come to class more often?" Emily asks once they finally slow down a block away from their apartment complex.

"Because before Gatsby, the assigned reading was the Tempest and Shakespeare makes shit sense to me. I hate having to look back and forth between the text and the footnotes and it doesn't help anyways. It makes me feel stupid."

"Which you clearly aren't," Emily says. To which he replies, "Thanks." They wheel into the parking lot in front of their building and Emily's spirits fall when she spots Bruce's clunker parked out front. Rodge notices and asks what's wrong.

"Remember my mom's boyfriend? He's here _uninvited._ Again." Emily squeezes the handlebars, weighing her options. Her options: go upstairs and start another confrontation or flee, go to the library and wait it out. Frankly, both suck.

"We can hang out at my place until your mom shows or maybe he leaves?" Rodge suggests. "We can do homework. I should warn you though, my place is a shithole."

"Have you noticed where we live? What isn't?" Emily laughs bitterly. "That sounds great."

Rodge shows her to his apartment that's falling apart just as much as hers. The same water stains on the ceiling and dull-colored carpet. It smells of mildew, mothballs and meagerness. The one difference is that here the walls are bare. No family photos whatsoever.

"So where are your parents?" Emily asks.

"My dad is probably drunk somewhere, maybe with his girlfriend, if not passed out in his pick-up. My mom, well, your guess is as good as mine. She freaked out a couple years back, shaved her head and left town. I haven't heard from her since."

"Must've been hard," Emily says, though Rodge doesn't seem to have an opinion. "Are you an only child?"

"Living here, yeah, thank God. I don't know how Ike does it with two younger siblings. I cannot. When my dad's girlfriend brings her colicky baby over." Rodge rubs his head as if a migraine can come from a memory. "I supposedly have an older half-brother living out in the boonies somewhere, but hell if I know. You have a brother, right? The wheelchair kid?"

"_Brian_," Emily says with a bite to her voice. "Not _the wheelchair kid_."

Rodge nods, apologetic. "Brian. Right."

"I don't have to worry about him. Brian already has people approaching him, telling him he can skip high school because his test scores are in the top percentile in the entire country. Not to mention he loves Shakespeare. He _quotes_ Shakespeare."

Rodge laughs. "Right when I was starting to like him."

Emily sits at the kitchen table across from Rodge and sets down her heavy backpack. His appears much lighter. "Did you bring any schoolbooks home with you?"

"Nope. Not a single one. I have something better." Reaching into the front pocket, Rodge pulls out a metal thermos, undoes the top and out slides a baggie of white powder. In an instant, Emily feels the hairs on her arms stand and a heavy, sick feeling swallows her whole. "Ike bitches about not mixing dealing with using, but fuck it."

"You know, I, um, I just remembered that I have to return these library books because they're, um, due today so I'm just going to…go. It was cool riding home together. Maybe we can do it some other time. I'll, um, see you tomorrow hopefully in homeroom."

Emily takes her bag and her bike and gets out as quickly as she can. Rodge shouts something after her, but Emily shuts the front door behind her. Her thoughts are racing and her hands shaking. She had had her suspicions that time she saw him in the library with Ike, but he's a dealer. He deals drugs. For a second, she let herself believe it stopped there. Rodge is a junkie. He's just like everyone else in this stupid neighborhood.

As she wheels her bike to the elevator, Emily tells herself she should know not to expect anything from anyone anymore. In the end, she always finds herself disappointed. Though she made up the part about the due books, Emily still intends to go to the library. That way, everything she said to Rodge will hopefully feel like less of a lie.

…

_Never underestimate the power of human stupidity. –Robert A. Heinlein / Have fun with this one, Lo. ;-) _

The only thing more fucking stupid than Valentine's Day is a Valentine's Day Dance. The one thing more fucking stupid than both those things is the idiot who walks up to Lauren and suggests she go to the Valentine's Day dance, assuming that since she's standing next to Ike that he is even an option as her man candy. Oh, hell no.

"You did not just try to push these stupid tickets for your stupid dance on _me_ and assume I'd go with stupid Ike. Are you stupid?" Lauren rips through the poor girl. "Walk away. _Now_."

The girl does as she's told—her first smart move.

"What happened to making an effort to be a nicer person?" Ike asks.

"It's hard when I'm surrounded by stupid people," Lauren says, stretching her neck to look over at the girl who tried to sell her tickets. When the girl catches Lauren glaring at her she quickly scurries away. "Plus, I am a nicer person. I let Royal idiots trash my house."

Ike adds, "And I'm a nicer person for helping you clean up the day after."

"Sure. Whatever."

Lauren is actually glad Ike decides to be a good friend and help clean because she was too hungover to do it alone. Emily and Payson were also there to lend a hand and Payson roped her boys into disposing of all the empty bottles and crushed cans. Even Darby delegated orders to a horde of zombie-like Boozers. By the afternoon they were sitting around, watching Food Network and ordering Thai takeout.

"Did your dad say anything?"

"He didn't notice a thing," Lauren says. "Then he started going on and on about how I'm really starting to mature and how proud he is. Guilt tripping me without even realizing."

"Another successful LoTan and Ikey B scheme!" Ike holds his fist out for a pound, but Lauren denies him of it.

Across the hall is the boy with the red beanie, the one she vaguely remembers from her party. He was hanging around Emily then and is now. Both staring at a banner that says, "Love-Struck: V-Day Dance. Get your tickets today!" The beanie kid rubs his chins, gears turning. Lauren has a sixth sense for these things.

"Who is that guy?" Lauren asks.

"Rodge. A friend of mine."

"And what's your friend's interest in my Emily?"

"Currently unknown," Ike replies. "I wish I knew. Cool guy, but not the best to get involved with. I will say in the years I've known him I've never seen him show an interest in a girl like he does with Emily and I don't even think they've had a real conversation."

"You should have seen English," Lauren says. "He was practically fanning his intellectual feathers like a peacock, looking to mate in the references section of the library."

Ike stares at her with a dumb expression on his face. "What now?"

"Forget it," she says. "Just do me a favor and find out."

"On it."

Lauren didn't even know the boy in the beanie existed until recently. She's convinced he started showing off in class to impress Emily. Lauren invites herself over and takes her rightful place at Emily's side.

"Thinking of getting your dance on, Tutor Girl?" Lauren asks. "And with Ike's friend?"

"No," Rodge replies, not even having to think about the question. "I'm too distracted by how this poster is the sorriest ass thing I've ever seen. It's begging for a makeover."

"What does that even mean?" Emily asks.

She won't ever admit it, but Lauren knows Emily is slightly impressed by what he pulled in English. Oh, Em. Why _this guy_? Why not Conrad Cooper, who actually looks like he showers and has both kinds of six-pack? Lauren doesn't understand.

Rodge pulls out a black Sharpie and tells them to keep a look out. He reaches up and draws a big F over the s and t in "Love-Struck," crosses out the "Day" in "V-Day" and instead writes "card." Lastly, he draws an X through "Get your tickets" and writes "Lose yours."

"Love-Fuck," Rodge reads, "V-Card dance. Lose yours today. Hmm, I wonder who did that…"

"It's a mystery," Lauren says sarcastically.

Ike grins at her. "Any more incentive to go to the dance?"

"More than before, but it's still the stupidest thing ever," Lauren says. "That's a no."

"Ditto," Emily agrees.

"So are we getting out of here?" Rodge asks. His expectant gaze moves to Emily and Lauren's attention follows, along with Ike's, putting the dark-haired girl on the spot.

"Someone sure works fast," Lauren murmurs.

"We live together," Emily says. "I mean, in the same building. He's my neighbor."

"No work today?" Lauren asks. "Not that I'd blame you for skipping out."

"Nope. And I plan on making the most of it," Emily says. "I have homework to do and reading…unless you want to track down Kaylie and listen to her vent about your abandonment of the cheerleaders and about her and Nicky and how she's overwhelmed by life in general?"

"Tempting, but I think I'll pass," Lauren says. It's a nice alternative to what she really wants to say. Lauren pulls a slip of pink paper out of her back pocket and holds it up for Emily to see. "The Cameraman demands to see me."

"I hope Max knows this should be considered overtime," Emily says.

"If he doesn't, you can bet I'm telling him," Lauren says. "I knew I should have talked Matsui into making it by the hour. That would have made this thing go by so much faster."

"But you made the bed," Emily starts.

"I know, I know. I made the bed and now I need to fuck in it…or something like that." Lauren winks. She assembles her defenses and points threateningly at Rodge. "No funny stuff. If anything happens to her I will back you over with my car. Got it?"

Lauren is significantly shorter than the boy with the red beanie, but she doesn't back down. She goes at him with the same intensity she had when ripping on the ticket salesgirl. Rodge gives her a boyish smile and says, "got it," before Emily and him walk off.

"So does that mean you approve of Rodge courting Miss Emily?"

"He's a greaser and definitely trouble, but a little male attention from a bad boy will be good for her, I hope." Lauren snaps a picture of the banner with her phone. "Yes, I'm tweeting it first."

"I only would have said something if you _didn't_."

"And I still want you to get him alone and interrogate him," Lauren says. "Treat it like Emily is your sister and your friend is a green-haired boy trying to get her pregnant and stuck in Laguna. That should do the trick."

"Emily told you?"

"We tell each other everything. Get used to it. For the record, your sister has a right to be pissed at you. If I had a brother who tried to pull that I'd be on a bitch rampage."

"I couldn't just stand by and do nothing."

"Ike, if she wants to have sex she's going to have sex and thinking you can change that is, well, do I need to point it out? Stupid. End of story."

"I'm not listening." Ike holds his hands over his ears. He smiles and Lauren gives him an eighth of a smile in return. Suddenly her phone starts to vibrate and when she looks at the screen, a full smile stretches across her face.

"Did you just find out you won the lottery?" Ike asks.

"No. Yet another stupid question."

"Then what's with the smile?"

"Texting a friend," Lauren says, starting to walk down the hall.

Ike hurries after her. "You mean Razor?"

Lauren stops, pressing the screen of her phone to her chest incase Ike is looking over her shoulder. "How do you know about Razor?"

He smirks, not quite one of AJ's signature up-to-no-good smirks, but Ike definitely thinks he has an ace up his sleeve. "Emily and I talk too."

"Okay, creepy," Lauren says. "Why are you staring at me like that? Creepy—er."

"Tell me something, Lauren. Why is it when a quote/unquote 'hot guy' Edward Cullen type stares at a girl it's considered 'alluring' and 'sexy,' but when a plain-looking Harry Potter type stares at a girl it's considered stalking?"

"You actually think you look like Harry Potter? The rat guy, maybe."

"That's not what I'm saying…"

"And you just referenced Twilight. _So_ two years ago." Lauren would give him a playful shove, but that would mean touching Ike and that jacket he's always wearing (probably never washes) and Lauren doesn't know if it's worth the risk. "You're being extra weird today and this has been fun, but I have to go meet Cameraman in…five minutes ago. Damn it."

When Lauren starts walking again, Ike speeds up with her. "Want me to wait for you?"

"I think your time will be better spent with homework or something that doesn't come in a pill or a powder."

Lauren starts walking again and this time Ike doesn't follow. Instead, he loudly shouts after her, "So is that a 'no' to going to the V-Card Dance together?"

She turns to face him and disregards all the staring, nameless faces, itching for new drama.

"For me to give you an answer you'd have to ask me, which you didn't." Lauren turns on her heels and goes to the newsroom. As expected, Max is already there, but when is he not?

When Max notices her, he stops what he's doing on the computer. "Hey, you didn't show up to the lunch meeting."

"I got your note saying to meet you after school," Lauren says, holding it up.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can ditch our regular meetings."

"I don't do overtime," Lauren says. "So what's up?"

"You have your camera?"

"I don't go anywhere without it." Lauren rummages through the leather bag hanging on her shoulder and hands the camera over to Max who connects it to the computer.

"I sneaked a peek at your party…"

"What were you doing in my room?"

"Your friend, the blonde one, _way_ too serious and kind of awkward, hangs out with Austin Tucker? She can explain." Max drums his fingers against the table, waiting as it loads.

"Did you do something to Payson?" Lauren asks protectively. The atmosphere changes with Lauren's question and when Max picks up on it, he twists in his chair and faces her.

"You really care about your friends, don't you?"

"Well, I don't have brainless Royals begging to be my friend, not that I'd want that anyways. I actually work to keep my friends and they're actual friends that I know have my back."

Max quirks both brows. "Same goes for Kaylie?"

Her demeanor darkens even though for once she isn't the one fighting with Kaylie. The fact that they're civil doesn't make their friendship a topic she wants to discuss with him. "I didn't come here to talk about Kaylie. I don't need you taking what I tell you back to your girlfriend for her to twist around and use as an excuse to start drama."

"We aren't on a reality TV show, but I get it," Max says gently. "Now, about these pictures…"

"Are you going to tell me they look like crap again?"

"I actually like them," Max says. "I was just as surprised and a little drunk so I wanted you to come in here so we can look them over. Cool?"

Max pulls up one of the empty swivel chairs and pats the seat for Lauren to sit. He then starts clicking through the set Lauren took over the course of the last week. She finds herself a little on edge, waiting for what he has to say. Despite the lessons Max has given her, Lauren still doesn't know what she's doing. She just takes pictures and deletes the ones she doesn't like.

"This isn't one of my favorites," Max says. He points around the photo as he explains, "the composition is a bit of a mess. There's too much to look at so it takes work to figure out what it is you want us to see."

He clicks to the next and Lauren almost forgot she took it. In the picture, Payson and Emily are on the balcony at her house, sharing a lounger and laughing together, unaware Lauren and her camera were spying on them. The setting sun is their backdrop. The sky is a brilliant mix of orange and gold, so striking, as if a bomb has just gone off, which seems scarily appropriate considering everything that happened at the party later that night.

"This one's fantastic," Max says. "Your use of natural lighting and the color tones. How real and happy your friends are, not posing or trying to give the camera what they hope they look like, just what they are. It's a great picture."

"Really?"

Max tears his eyes from the screen, intrigued by the doubt in her voice. Lauren hears it herself and wishes she hadn't. She prides herself on being strong and consistently self-assured. When it comes to being out of her element, not so much.

"Sure," Max says. "What? Lauren Tanner isn't used to compliments?"

"As you pointed out, I spend more time on the opposite side of the camera," Lauren says, refusing to meet his eyes. "I usually just stick to what I'm good at and I never thought photography would be one of those things."

"I don't know if you should renovate your basement into a darkroom…even if that's what I did, but, you have an interesting eye for things, beauty especially. There are a dozen others here that are just…beautiful. What were you thinking when you took this one?"

"I don't know."

"There must have been something."

Realizing that they're the only two in the room, Lauren explains, "I'm not like Payson or Emily. They're my friends and, yeah, include me in, but sometimes I don't get why. We're so different. Most times I think I'm the 'bad one' and proud. Pay and Em don't have to be bitches to like themselves. It's like, I'm apart of it, but I wish I could _feel_ apart of it?" Max stares at her, searching for something Lauren doesn't want him to find. "And you totally don't care."

"No," Max says softly. "I know the feeling."

"Why do I find that hard to believe, Mr. Perfect?"

"Mr. Perfect? Right. This whole Royals vs. Rejects is bull." Max minimizes the window on the desktop and pulls up another. He brings up a photo from homecoming where Maeve won queen and subsequently Max won king. "I'm not this king of the school guy. I'm a yearbook-slash-newspaper geek. Do you see how genuinely happy Maeve is?"

"She looks so happy she could cry. Like, literally."

"Exactly, and I thought it was the stupidest thing to be happy about," Max confesses. "I would have rather been the guy taking the picture and making fun of the 'Royals' or at home in my darkroom, but all this comes with dating the most popular girl in school. So, yeah, I know how it feels. I'm a 'Royal' but I don't feel it."

When the words run out, Lauren realizes this entire time she's been staring straight into his eyes, dark brown, gentle and unblinking. When she first got forced into this, Lauren didn't expect compassion and understanding from Max Spencer.

When their stare stretches too long and becomes far too intimate, Lauren mercilessly searches for any change of topic. "So, you have a darkroom at your house?" Lauren asks. It's lame and when the lameness registers, the spell finally breaks.

"Um, yeah," Max says, a little caught off guard by the shift. His lips tug to one side in a way that can only be described as dangerous. "Maybe I'll show you sometime."

"Maybe." Lauren inwardly grimaces when the word slips and it sounds like flirting. She knows not to go there. To even push that boundary without actually crossing the line would be stupid. "So are we done here?"

Max is confused by the sudden cold shoulder, but doesn't address it. "Sure. Just don't miss another lunch meeting, okay? If you do I might have to report you."

Lauren agrees and leaves once she grabs her camera. She goes back to texting Razor, something familiar and safe. Did she seriously entertain the idea of flirting with Maeve Benson's boyfriend? It must be all the Valentine's Day nonsense melting her brain.

As she walks an empty hallway, Lauren rips down one of posters for the Valentine's Day dance and leaves it on the floor, a tear straight through a glitter heart.

…

Wednesday is Awesome Cuddly Animals Day, arguably one of the best days of the week.

Practice at the Rock ends early on Wednesdays and while most of the gymnasts go home to work on their home schooling assignments, Payson, Conrad and Becca go to the local humane society. Kim has friends who run it and thinks community service will keep the girls well-rounded individuals. Conrad tags along because he loves animals.

Payson smoothes her red volunteer shirt down her stomach, the logo over her heart. She grabs her bag and heads outside the locker room to where Conrad, wearing an identical shirt, is waiting with Austin. Conrad bashfully stares at his feet, which can only mean Austin is teasing him about something.

"Austin, shut up, man."

"Pay!" Austin shouts, waving a CD case. "Connie made your friend, Emily, a mixtape."

"It's a burnt CD of songs!" Conrad says defensively.

"Which is the definition of mixtape." Austin hands the CD to Payson.

"We were talking about music at the party and I said I'd make her a totally platonic list of the best songs country music has to offer," Conrad explains. "Pay, can you please give it to her?"

"Sure, Con." Payson tucks the CD into her bag and turns to Austin. "So, are you sure you can't volunteer with us? Austin Tucker photographed with cute, cuddly puppies. It'd be great for your image."

"One word: al-ler-gic," Austin says. He's said it a million times over and over again, but Payson always likes to bring it up. "And since when does Payson Keeler care about image?"

"Since she became Gymnastics' It-Girl," Conrad announces. He forms a box with his thumbs and index fingers, framing Payson in the center. "An image of a winner." Conrad then shifts to frame Austin. "And you, Aus, wear an image of destruction and womanizing."

"Hey, _not_ all of those stories are true!"

"Sure, Mr. Cobalt," Payson says.

In Rio, Austin played up his Bad Boy front, arms around different Cobalt models, whispering in their ears, wearing more-expensive-to-buy-than-make Cobalt sunglasses. Underneath her focused face, Payson was bothered, seeing him flirt with nameless faces by the pool. Kelly and Faith were ready to kill him in front of the cameras, but Payson held them back.

She knows better than to get upset and punish him for something he has no choice but to do. It's an act for his sponsors, cultivating this "image" to meet public expectation. Payson is strong and secure and doesn't panic over his showboating. Now she understands what Kelly meant, saying gymnastics is one part skill, one part image and one part acting.

"Jeez, guys, you know there's nothing I'd love more than to do community service, getting down and dirty with you and cuddly animals and make sure Connie doesn't try anything funny." Austin playfully elbows his friend. "But there's a little thing called _allergies_."

Payson shakes her head, ponytail swinging. "Excuses."

"No, he actually has allergies." Conrad backs up his boy like always. "You know Lady, the pregnant husky, yeah, I brought her home so I could keep an eye on her overnight and Austin got all puffy and sneezing. We had to call in a service to disinfect the entire lake house."

Knowing the giant dumpsite their lake house can be, Payson says, "I hope you tipped well."

"Very," Austin assures her. "Alright, while you play with puppies, I have a Skype date with my sister, where she'll probably complain about my parents and how difficult and/or boring her life is and how I don't understand what she goes through because I'm a boy and/or stupid."

"Hot Wednesday night!" Conrad shouts. "I'm a little sad to be missing it. Skype with Rapunzel is always interesting. Well, except the part where she tries to get Austin and me to make out. To be honest, I'd much rather make out with her. No offense, Aus."

"Offense taken," Austin says firmly.

Payson laughs. "Well, I'd be a little worried if he wanted to make out with you more than your sister."

"His _hot_ sister," Conrad says with a teasing smile.

Austin isn't serious very often, but when he is, most of the time it has something to do with his sister. "Con, if you don't shut up about Ava, I'm telling Becca about the mixtape for Emily _and_ the KP Knockoffs _and _the girl you've got in Kentucky. Who's womanizing now?"

"Please don't," Payson says. She's gotten past the part where it's fun to tease Becca about it. Now it's annoying. "She's spending some quality time with the mirror as we speak and just for you, Con. You know that she has the biggest crush on you, right?"

"Yeah. I ain't blind or stupid," Conrad says. "All I know is when I was her age and I had a crush on Hilary Duff I would have _killed_ to be around her or just have an autographed poster."

"Taylor Swift, Hilary Duff and Kelly?" Payson asks.

"And Jackie Nevada, chick that'll trick you with the sweet southern accent and steal all your cash playing cards," Austin adds. There's a story there, one that makes Conrad grin. Austin remembers their initial topic and says, "Hmm, which of these things is not like the others?"

"I reserve the right to not be judged by Coupleland." Conrad holds his hand up as if taking an oath.

"Hey, guys!" Becca bounces up to them. She obviously put effort into her appearance, every dirty blonde hair in place. Her shirt matches Payson and Conrad. "What are we talking about?"

"About how we're all waiting for you. Now, come on, let's go." Payson hurries her along. Becca narrows her eyes, telling Payson that she's being embarrassing and Payson begins to understand why her parents get such a kick out of it. "Bye, Austin."

"Bye, Pay," he says in return. "And, Connie, I expect my car back in one piece!"

"After the girls and I go off-roading, we'll see. Say hi to Little Tuck for me."

Conrad whirls the keys around his finger and Austin goes over to wrestle them away. It's Conrad's turn to play keep away, stretching his long arm above his head. Austin lightly jabs Conrad in abdomen, making him double over. Payson ushers Becca to Austin's car, not even trying to stop the boys and their horseplay.

Out of nowhere, a woman approaches the Keeler girls the way a shark would approach its lunch. She's older, short and stout, and practically has dollar signs in her eyes. "Hello! You're Payson Keeler, are you not?"

"Who's asking?" Becca snaps, the spunky little bodyguard she is.

The woman regards Becca like she isn't a threat, something like _cute_ on the tip of her tongue. "Sheila Buboyan, sports manager extraordinaire or so I'm told."

That's not what Payson's heard at all.

"Sheila?" Conrad shouts after them. Payson watches Sheila's face when her attention moves to her former client. The iciness of Sheila's stare is familiar for some reason even though Payson has never met this woman before in her life. A hand on Becca's arm, Payson pulls her younger sister back as if she's afraid the woman might sprout fangs and attack.

"As I was saying," Sheila continues, ignoring Conrad, "did you happen to receive the gift baskets I had delivered? I hope they were to your liking. I didn't actually have a list of possible allergies so I ball parked. I hope we can get to know each other better in the future."

"Um, it was really nice of you," Payson says politely. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," Sheila says. "So I was wondering why I haven't heard from you."

"Oh, well, my parents and I discussed it and we decided to go in a different direction, but thank you for your interest and the baskets. My mom really enjoyed the mango."

Sheila's enthusiasm washes away like throwing a glass of water at a watercolor painting and watching as it all bleeds together and slips away. "There must be some mistake."

"You heard her." Conrad steps in, protective of the two girls. "We should get going. We don't wanna be late."

"You said something, didn't you?" Sheila hisses at him. The way she's quick to attack is familiar too, but Payson's preoccupied, worrying about their safety. "Not only do you ditch me like I'm some clingy groupie, but you're trying to take away future clientele?"

"Conrad had nothing to do with it." Becca sticks up for him. Sheila towers over Becca in the way Ursula towers over everything in the showdown scene of Disney's the _Little Mermaid_.

"Becca, get in the car," Payson orders.

"It's not like I'm leaving you for a different manager, Sheila," Conrad argues.

"No, but you are throwing away your future, a bright one we could have both benefited from!"

"That's one opinion, but not mine. Nice seeing you, ma'am, but we best be on our way." Conrad would probably politely tip his hat to her if he were wearing one. The three quickly walk the rest of the way to Austin's car and pile in. "I, for one, am _glad_ I got away from that crazy bitch when I did."

"I think we both lucked out. Not going with her might have been my smartest career move so far," Payson says, making a mental note to thank Kelly for the heads-up.

"And me signing with her might have been my dumbest. Should've listened to my parents on that one." Conrad fiddles with the stations at a stoplight, happy when he finds a Christian rock station. "Austin hates when I mess up all his radio stations so of course I gotta."

The Boulder Humane Society is right on the edge of the city limits, a cute and quaint little animal sanctuary. Mostly, the volunteers walk and feed the animals, clean kennels, assist people through adoptions or viewings and whatever asked of them. It's chilly yet sunny and once they arrive, the girls button up their coats and get to work.

Payson sweeps up the cement walkway when Conrad comes running at her, full speed. He's wrapped in plastic, complete with latex gloves and Conrad's special level of excitement.

"Payson! Lady's giving birth!" Conrad grabs her and drags her straight to the clinic. He urges her get up close and personal, but she chooses to watch from afar.

Conrad is down on his knees, assisting the veterinarian the entire time. Truthfully, Payson finds the entire thing kind of gross, but she does learn that Conrad really does love animals and knows what he's doing. Afterwards, Payson takes a closer look at the newborn puppies and Becca launches her grand scheme to somehow get their parents to let them adopt one.

At the end of the day, Payson notices everyone giving Conrad hugs. At first she writes it off as them showing their gratitude over him helping deliver the puppies and just because Conrad really likes hugs, but she hears someone says, "we're really going to miss you," and Payson knows there's something going on.

"So." Payson approaches Conrad while they wait for Becca in the bathroom, making herself presentable. "Your ex-manager thinks you're throwing away your future and everyone is saying they're going to miss you. Where exactly are you going and why don't I know about it? Are you changing gyms _again_?"

"Pay, do I look like a gym slut?" Conrad asks humorously. "Man, I was wondering when you were going to ask…" He sits on a picnic table and pats the spot next to him. Payson promptly fills it. "Payson, I'm joining the army."

A beat.

She lifts her eyebrows in question. "Okay, where are you _really_ going?"

"I took the ASVAB, the test recruits have to take to enlist, and I feel good about how I did. I still have to take the physical exam and sit down with a counselor, sign contracts, get sworn in and all that. For basic training I've requested Fort Knox in Kentucky, but I'll end up wherever they got room. My recruiter said not to expect anything, but it didn't hurt to ask."

Conrad's explanation is one she hadn't been expecting. It robs her of all ability to communicate. It becomes so quiet between them you can hear the rustling blades of grass with passing breezes and the way Conrad nervously cracks his knuckles.

"Jesus Christ, I'm gonna have to cut my hair."

"There isn't that much to cut," Payson says flatly. Conrad throws his head back with a laugh while the blonde gymnast stares at him, blank. She keeps waiting for her mind to put everything together, but that isn't happening. "Why? I mean, not the haircut, but why enlist? Not that I think either is a bad thing, but…why?"

"Because I want to."

"But gymnastics…"

"Payson, I love gymnastics," Conrad says, drumming his feet against the bench. "I love it…but I don't feel like I'm doing anything, you know? Like I could be doing something, _really_ doing something, _mattering_, but instead I'm doing photo shoots and in the gym from before the sun comes up to after it's down. I just…I'm searching and maybe this is it."

"The army, though?" Payson frowns, but only because she cares that much.

"My grandpa was a drill instructor and he'd tell me stories. I remember thinking, _damn_; he mattered in the best way. All my life my parents pushed me to gymnastics and to follow them to the Olympics. It got to be too much. We made a deal that if I got to this point and still wasn't feelin' it then I could stop without judgment or shame. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad my parents pushed me and I love gymnastics, but I think it's time for something else."

That's the difference between Payson and Conrad. He's searching for something greater than gold, while Payson can't imagine anything but. She isn't searching, but honed in on what she has to do. The way she sees it, if Conrad wants to wander then he should. No one should be judged for having a different dream.

Payson sighs, but smiles. "As long as you're sure you want this…"

"Sasha said the same thing. He also said I'm making the stupidest, most asinine mistake he's ever seen. I'm sure you share the sentiment even if you won't say it." Conrad winks at her and Payson laughs because he knows her well. "Maybe I am a fool, but at least I can be happy, knowing I made the decision for me. How many kids in our business can say that?"

"I never really thought of that." Suddenly, Payson's eyes widen and she grabs onto Conrad's arm, her face tinted with alarm. "Con, what is Austin going to do without you?"

He relaxes, mirth in his eyes. "I ain't worried about Tuck. He's got you."

Conrad is always so sweet and he doesn't even realize it.

"Yeah, but I'm not the one who willingly sits around with him for hours, killing zombies or whatever it is you do. Not to mention, the ninja training obstacle course you two were building behind the lake house. How's Austin handling this? You did tell him, right?"

"Like I could keep something like this from Austin." Conrad scoffs at the thought. "I asked him not to tell anyone, though. I don't want everyone at the gym making a big deal about it. Plus, I'm pretty sure Aus is in denial. He'll probably throw a tantrum about it when the days start counting down. I did promise to finish up the ninja training obstacle course before I ship out."

"The Rock isn't going to be the same without you."

"Aw, Pay, you gonna miss me?"

"Coop, it's ridiculous to think I wouldn't."

"Good because it would have been awkward if I said I was gonna miss you and you didn't feel it back. It would have been a _long_ drive back to your house."

Conrad extends his arm and Payson scoots closer until she's up against his side. She feels his muscles tighten around her and Payson brings both arms around him. She takes a moment to memorize everything about him from his scent to the bristly feeling of the invisible hairs on his chin against her cheek. Payson makes it a point to look into his eyes that are so blue they're practically clear. She's sure Conrad is cataloging this moment along with her.

"You know this is going to crush Becca, right?"

"I'll promise to write?" Conrad says, but it won't be enough. "I guess that's why they call it a crush. Just like me when Kelly Parker shot me down…five times. Or when Lizzie McGuire went off air or when Taylor Swift got cozy with John Mayer. Joe Jonas I could take, but _John Mayer_? He sings and breaks hearts. The hell am I supposed to compete with that?"

Payson curls her fingers into the sleeve of the shirt he's wearing, keeping his arm around her. They stay like that, hoping this moment will be enough to hold on to when he's gone.

"What about the girl Austin mentioned, whose name sounds like a drink at a Texan bar?"

Conrad smiles, probably thinking about her. "Jackie Nevada, the one that stole my heart and kept it. Nah, I'd have to classify that one as a little more than a crush."

"Have you told her?" Payson asks. Conrad just hugs her tighter. "Conrad…"

"Hey, what's going on?" Becca walks over, filled with suspicion at the sight of her sister and her crush clinging to each other like two shadow-monster-fearing children in a cave.

They manage to dodge Becca's ridiculous suspicion until they arrive home. Payson goes inside while Conrad breaks the news to Becca. She wants to stand by and watch, but knows they deserve some privacy. She walks inside, already trying to come up with a plan to ease Becca's inevitable heartache. She's momentarily distracted by the fantastic smell that fills the house.

"Mark, you're overreacting," Kim says from the kitchen. "Stop it. Payson wouldn't like this."

"Thank you, Aunt Kim!"

_That voice_ makes Payson doubt whether she's awake or if this entire day has been a dream.

"I don't know, Uncle Mark, sometimes a hug is just a hug, but what do I know? In Paris, I almost cried my eyes out when I turned on the TV and I couldn't understand anything they were saying. Seriously, I had to watch TV and make up my own storylines to go with it!"

"Nu-uh. Your fast talking trickery doesn't work on me, Faith Giancana," Mark says. "No changing the subject. I know what I saw. That Austin Tucker thug with his tattoos and his charm and his wandering hands! When they were hugging, his hands were all over her—"

Payson loudly shoves past the swinging door, ignoring the thousand warning signals saying she's walking in on something embarrassing. All she knows is she couldn't stand to eavesdrop anymore and had to know if this was real or all in her head.

Kim and Mark stand at the kitchen island. She's tossing a salad as he hovers over a tray of salmon. Payson stares at the girl in front of the oven with mitts on her hands and an apron wrapped around her petite figure. No longer a strawberry blonde, her hair is dyed a dark auburn with bangs that sweep across her forehead. Confirmation comes in the form of it deep blue eyes and a giant smile that would look goofy if she weren't so damn pretty.

"Faith?"

"Pace!" Faith squeals, almost dropping the pie she just pulled from the oven. "Oh, my gosh! I wanted to be waiting for you wearing _only this apron_, but then I figured, inappropriate, right?"

Payson drops her bag as Faith slides the pie onto the counter and they meet in the middle of the kitchen. Payson and Faith hug and stay that way with literally no space between them. Faith smells sickeningly sweet, her signature vanilla, but Payson isn't bothered by it, too excited and showing it with a smile of her own.

Faith Giancana is back in Colorado. Something tells Payson nothing after this will be the same.

…

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: Honestly, it makes us a little sad to hear a few of you aren't digging the way we're writing Kaylie. It only makes sense because we see the bigger picture and already know what's going to happen. We can assure you that Kaylie's journey is a heartbreaker (much like the other three) and her transformation (that you're only starting to see) feels right. You can be the judge of that later.

**Q:** "**Are Kaylicky ever going to be like the way they were in Barcelona?"**

**A: **Straight up: no. Relationships (at least, in our joint experience) are live and constantly changing. We learn new things every day that shape the way we interact with the people around us. There are so many different things that affect us individually and consequentially our relationship. It's a real and raw and something our characters will experience.

**Review.**

(If you must flame, you must. As long as it's your honest opinion, go for it.)

#WeFab #LLD2 #LLDforever


	9. I Get Lost in my Mind

**Warning:** Hold on to your hearts, lovers. Someone's must break.

* * *

><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

Faith freaking Giancana is in the Keeler house! Needless to say, Payson is elated.

"I missed you."

"No, I missed _you_!" Faith gushes. When they finally separate, flour from Faith's apron (that says _I kiss better than I cook_) sticks to Payson's humane society t-shirt, but they're too preoccupied to notice. A little flour pales in comparison to Faith Giancana being in Colorado.

"So, do we still refer to you as a strawberry blonde?" Payson asks.

"Baby, I've colored my hair so many times _I_ don't even remember my natural color," she confesses. Faith curls strands of her reddish brown hair around her fingers, silver nails glittering beneath the kitchen lights. "Finally you're home! Don't freak, but I'm feeding you!"

Payson laughs. "Since you're in my house shouldn't I be feeding you?"

"Oh, we are. Faith Giancana, you are too thin," Kim says, coming up beside the girls and running her hand down the back of Faith's head. She responds with a big smile and seeing their interaction reminds Payson of how cautious and timid Faith had been the first time she met the Keelers. Now Faith embraces Kim without shame or boundaries.

"My Gran says the same thing all the time, which is strange because I eat everything and anything," Faith admits. "Remember the buffet in Rio?"

"You mean you and Conrad and the rib eating competition?"

Everyone laughs. The image of Faith and Conrad with barbeque sauce smeared all over their lips and waving rib bones at each other is priceless.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, because I am, but what are you doing here, Faith?"

"I wanted to surprise you so surprise!" Faith sways from side to side as if her body fails to contain her excitement. "Your mom picked me up from the airport. I know I probably should have called Nicky to come get me, but, I'm not exactly ready for that and I'm even less prepared to see Kelly. She isn't looking so hot, is she?"

Payson shakes her head no. She doesn't know if there's any more to say, especially in front of her parents. Mark clears his throat and busies himself, putting his expert finishing touches on dinner while Kim shares the girls' concern, an arm wrapped around each of them.

"Marty clued me in," Faith says. "He's about to have a nervous breakdown over Kelly. Nicky too. Then there's Austin whining, whining, whining, so I figured it's time. I kinda left New York in a hurry and my dad hasn't set me up with a place to stay yet so…"

"Faith, you are always welcomed in this house," Kim assures her.

"Merci," Faith says without even trying an accent, so very American, so very Faith to not care.

"And you need to share some of your adventure stories with us," Kim reminds her.

"Absolutely."

The front door opens and slams, followed by angry footsteps pounding up the stairs before another door slams. A quick headcount and they realize who it is—Becca. Kim immediately goes to check on her youngest. When she comes back, the table is set and Mark and the girls patiently wait to start dinner. Kim explains that Becca isn't feeling too well and won't be joining them. Payson knows exactly why.

Though all four of them worry about Becca, Faith proves to be a good distraction. She tells stories about her travels, how she got lost too many times to count, found herself involved in a number of miscommunications with foreigners (that she claims wasn't her fault), especially when it comes to public transit. Payson accuses her of fibbing when Faith tells them she joined a touring indie folk band of twenty-seven people (backup vocals and shakers) and followed a thespian troupe around for a few months after that.

"If not Sorrento and Capri, then Paris was probably my favorite. I definitely wanna go back," Faith says. "What I thought was strange, but also really great was how Paris isn't, like, romantic like it is in movies. At least to me it wasn't. When I was there, there weren't any lovey-dovey feelings, mimes and poodles everywhere. Architecturally, it's a beautiful city and the museums and _the macarons_. Org—_heaven_ in your mouth."

It's an obvious save, but it's nice to know Faith is at least trying to censor.

"Je suis d'accord," Mark agrees in French with a surprisingly accurate-sounding accent.

It reminds Payson of the other day at the Rock when Mark decoded the French Faith included in her text.

"Okay, I need to know," Payson says, waving her fork as she talks. "Dad, where are you pulling this French from?"

"You didn't know?" Kim asks. "In college, your father spent a year studying abroad in France."

"You did?" Payson asks quizzically.

"You did!" Faith shouts excitedly.

Mark laughs. "I did."

Faith starts naming different spots in or around Paris and Mark tries hard to see which stand out for him. He says it feels like another lifetime when he didn't have a wife and two kids (and a Faith) and mortgage along with gymnastics careers to support. He seems so youthful and alive when he tells them about the time him and his fellow American friends would participate in prank wars and generally shamed their country. Sometimes Payson forgets her parents had lives before they became Mr. and Mrs. Keeler.

After dinner, Faith volunteers to do the dishes, happy to be earning her keep. Payson teases her about the first time they had dinner and how Faith was genuinely confused by the concept of not having maids to clean up after them. After hanging out for a bit longer and tasting the double-crusted apple pie Faith baked, everyone gets ready for bed.

"I'll admit, the pie was delicious," Payson says, "but the true test will be to see who stomachs it through the night."

"Hey, I'm a great baker. Gran taught me. Giancanas are winners. Genetic lottery, me think eth." Sitting on Payson's bed, Faith has her hair up high, wearing a black wifebeater with tie-dye pajama bottoms. On the bridge of her nose rests a pair of thick, boxy red reading glasses with slightly rounded edges. "Do you think we should check on Becca?"

"Not tonight. I think she needs some time to herself," Payson says, sitting in her matching pajama top and bottom with repeating yellow ducks. She told Faith about Conrad the second they were alone in her room. "Seeing you in the morning should be a nice surprise."

"I hope so. She's got great taste in boys; I'll give her that. Conrad is the sweetest, but still. Baby dolls and broken hearts, never pretty," Faith says sympathetically. "Speaking of, I want you to tell me the state of things, of everything. Don't leave out a single detail."

Payson sits back against the wooden headboard, fingers laced in her lap. She fills her in on everything that's happened since they last saw each other in October. She talks about her career and Austin and answers all of Faith's nagging questions.

"So what are Nicky and Kaylie like as a couple?"

"I don't know," Payson says. "It's weird, I guess."

"How so?"

"For one, they're still together, which is surprising in itself considering how often they fight. They never stay mad at each other, though. Whenever Kaylie forces him to hang out with us, he _always_ seems so uncomfortable, but I just assume it's me and how much I know, which makes _me_ uncomfortable. And we can't forget how every time Kaylie gushes about how great of a kisser Nicky is all I think is, obviously, because he apparently practiced _a lot_ on Kelly."

Payson's face scrunches in displeasure while Faith erupts in loud, dorky laughs.

"God, I missed you," Faith says, as if she hasn't said it enough tonight alone. "See. That just goes to show why people need to expand their dating pool."

"I second that," Payson says. "So you haven't talked to Kelly yet?"

"Not since Rio."

Payson frowns, mouth cemented shut, much like how she'd been, helplessly standing by as Faith and Kelly verbally tore each other and their friendship apart.

"I, um, I've been sending her cute little texts, but she doesn't reply. I've left her annoying voicemails and she doesn't call back to tell me to shut up. The only time a girl is allowed to ignore her best friend is if she's having great sex with someone hot or she's dead. Something's wrong, Pace. It can't be just about Nicky anymore. Something else had to have happened. Feeling so disconnected makes me wanna cry."

"Crying already? Faith, you just got here."

"Can it, beautiful. Mark my words! This will be a tear-free visit so help me God!" Faith announces. "So since I've been out of touch and out of reach, I should be asking _you_ about Kelly. Your mom told me about her surprise sleepover, but she didn't mention the pictures." Faith lowers her voice significantly. "You know what I'm talking about, right?"

"I saw, but my parents haven't. Thank God. If they did, my mom would probably try to have her locked up in a convent somewhere. I found out from Nicky, actually."

Faith's eyes widen in terror. "Nicky knew? He failed to mention that the last time we talked!"

"Kelly sort of told him indirectly and Nicky made Max Spencer take them down."

"That's my boy!" Faith cheers. "God, I want to bitch slap Kelly _so bad_! What was she thinking? Letting _Flex_ do body shots off of her _in public_? Yuck! And it wasn't just one or two pics either. It was a _series_! We're talking moment-by-moment play-by-play! Him licking salt off of her and sucking tequila from her navel, lime wedge from her mouth and all! I mean, it sounds hot and it looked hot, but no less whore-ish! Not exactly the NGO's cup o' tea."

"I know, Faith. I saw." Payson shivers, recalling how empty it seemed. "How'd you find out?"

"The Maximalist. I wouldn't call us besties, but we've known each other a long time, through Nicky. Max is great with a camera so I browse his picture blog sometimes. It was the first thing I saw on the 'net when I got back. At least they're off now. Does Max still have them?"

"Max was supposed to give all his copies to Nicky, but I'm not sure."

"Hopefully. I could use a dozen."

Payson shoots her a look. "Why in the world would you want that?"

"Not for, like, creepy purposes! Pace! I'm thinking of printing them and shoving them in her face or blowing them up and taping them to the walls all Dexter-style during the intervention. By the way, yes, we are holding an amateur intervention and I expect you to be there with a tearjerker of a speech. Nicky's ass better be there too _and _with a new tat!"

"According to him, they're talking again, which is good, right?" Payson says, unsure. "You should have seen his face, Faith. Nicky said Kelly thought he was in on it with Max and they posted the pictures just so they could laugh at her."

"Deep down, Kel knows he'd never. She's just looking for any reason to push him away. As if Kaylie would let Nicky go to a party Kelly's at. I doubt the leash stretches that far," Faith says, bitterly. She regrets it instantly and it shows on her face. "Ugh, I didn't mean to say it like that. You know I don't blame Kaylie for any of this. I think she's cool, but she kinda make my life more complicated than it needs to be."

"I don't even want to talk about Kaylie right now." Payson's voice is more of a growl, still upset with Kaylie. Payson's change in demeanor spikes Faith's interest.

"Is everything okay between you and the besties?"

"Me, Emily and Lauren, yes, but Kaylie…not so much," Payson explains. "She knew, Faith. She knew about the pictures because Max is dating her new best friend and she just kept quiet about it and let things get worse. Who does that?"

"Max has a girlfriend? _Really_? Like, a living, breathing _girl_? Not a dude in drag?"

Payson hesitates. From the few minutes she spent around Max, he doesn't seem like the type of guy who has trouble getting female attention.

"Yeah, Maeve Benson. Austin thinks she has an eating disorder and the next time I see Kaylie, I'm going to tell her because that's what friends do."

"Max and Maeve?" Faith giggles. "Do they wear matching cardigans? I bet they do." Her giggles turn to uncontrollable laughter. "Okay, serious face. So Kaylie knew about the pics of Kelly and she didn't say anything to you and you called her out on it?"

"Right. Her biggest concern was that Nicky and Max were fighting over Kelly, completely disregarding how this can, oh, I don't know, ruin Kelly's career! I love Kaylie, I do, but she can be so selfish sometimes and it drives me insane! There are bigger things going on than her high school relationship and I doubt she even told Nicky she knows and Kaylie is all about being honest? It'll just end in another fight. I'm calling it right now."

"Wow, let it all out, Pace. Don't hold anything back," Faith teases. "Have you talked since?"

"Nope. And I don't intend to." Payson knows she's being stubborn, but she doesn't feel there's anything for her to apologize for. It's Kaylie's move to make.

Faith giggles. "I said that exact same thing about Nicky. Then one convo later and we're back to bestie status. Something tells me you and Kaylie will work out the same. Now, would you mind if I called Nicky? I'll probably crash at his place since Kelly's isn't exactly an option."

Payson approves and Faith reaches for Payson's phone, mumbling about being too lazy to grab hers across the room. Faith puts it on speaker so they both can listen to it ring. Faith anxiously drums her fingers against the bedspread as they wait for him to pick up. It's one of the few times Payson has seen Faith less than confident. There's something heartbreaking about how Faith went from never having to second-guess or sensor with Nicky to how she is now, riddled with anxiety over something as simple as a phone call.

"Hello?" Nicky sounds so sleepy. Faith becomes rigid, no longer flailing around like usual. "Payson?"

"Hola her—er—mah—mano largo tie—mhmm-something sin saber de ti!" Faith stutters through it, but ends on a high, squealing note. Payson smiles and shakes her head. Faith butchering foreign languages never gets old.

"…You just asked me if my dog has an UTI," Nicky flatly replies.

"Not!" Faith screams, so childlike, as if she's watching one of those kid shows sponsored by PBS. "I said, 'hello, brother, long time no hear from you'…at least I tried to. Right?"

"Close enough," Nicky says. "Faith. Are you…? What? What's going on?"

"I am fantastic-o, which is odd because usually I'm the worst with jetlag," Faith says, adjusting the way her glasses fit her face. "I guess I've given away my secret location. By the way, you're on speaker. Payson, say hi."

"Hi," Payson says awkwardly.

"Hi," Nicky says, sounding just as awkward in return. "Wait…you're in Boulder?"

"Yes!" Faith shouts. "The Keelers picked me up this afternoon!"

"Finally you decided to show," Nicky says. It strikes all of them that Faith (and to some extent Kelly) has been gone for so long. The deep, nagging need to reunite grows stronger. "So, um, can I come over?"

Faith's face lights up at the idea, wiping away any bit of apprehension she once had. "Nicky, will you climb the tree outside Payson's window and serenade us in the moonlight?"

"If you want me to," Nicky readily agrees. His voice swells with hope as if he's already halfway out his front door. "I'll work on my scales on the drive over."

"Sorry to be the killjoy, but no," Payson interrupts. "For one, there's no tree outside my window and, two, my parents love you, Nicky, but not that much."

"Point taken," Faith says slowly. "Change of plan, Nix. Ditch school and come pick me up tomorrow morning."

"Done," Nicky says without a moment's hesitation. "Sneaky, your timing couldn't have been better. There's so much we need to talk about. I don't even mind sacrificing my perfect attendance senior year."

"I love that you care about perfect attendance. Nix, you're such a nerd from outer space. Okay, tomorrow we need to gameplan about how to go about fixing FKN because, yeah, we need to do _something_. Nicky, it sounds serious. She's doing stupid things with stupid people and most importantly getting caught doing them! Marty even said she _missed practice_!Tell me you've got insider intel."

"Not really," Nicky says, though he makes it fairly obvious he wishes he did. "Her dad's in town and you know how Kelly gets about her parents."

"What to do about our Kelly-moo." Faith hums, synchronized with the way she taps her fingers. "Dr. Parker in Denver is not gonna work with my agenda. He hates me."

"Who could hate you?" Payson says with a bit of teasing sarcasm. Picking up on it, Faith lightly slaps her leg, followed by a wink.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, her mom hates me," Nicky pipes in.

"No, it doesn't make me feel better because her mom _hates me more_," Faith counters. The Parkers must be a different breed of people if not even Faith Giancana can charm them. "Whatever. We are Kelly's _real _family and we're going to be there for her no matter how much she resists and tells herself she doesn't need us. Oh! I'll bake a cake! Is it inappropriate to have cake at an intervention?"

"Probably," Payson says. "But I see what you're saying. It could be a pick-me-up incase something goes wrong. I doubt Kelly will go for it. She's crazy strict about her diet."

"Point." Faith hums as she thinks. "What about male strippers? That's my definition of pick-me-up and calorie count isn't an issue."

"I am not paying for male strippers, Faith." Nicky already assumes she'd stick him with the bill (which she would).

"Fine, cheap-o. I bet you tacos—fuck yeah, Nix, I can eat as many tacos as I want now! I bet you twenty food truck dollar tacos that I could talk hottie Hector into stripping for the intervention. I volunteer him as our hot, foreign pick-Kel-up."

"One problem, Hector's gone," Nicky says. "He moved to Albany and he's been since January. He left right after New Years, which you said you'd come back for, but you never did. You missed Christmas too."

"I know. I suck," Faith says. "But you suck too. What happened to meeting us in Rio to support Kelly? No hate or anything, Nix, but we could have really used you then. Maybe she would have been too preoccupied with hating you to end things with me."

The sadness in Faith's voice brings Payson to a bad place, of listening and watching Faith cry on the floor in a Texas bathroom and then again in Rio. Payson touches Faith's arm to let her know that she isn't alone just like all those other times.

"You, um, you never told me what happened in Rio," Nicky says. From the way Faith is already starting to crumble, she's in no condition to delve back into memories from Worlds. "For the record, we could have really used you here around the holidays too, Faye."

There's this loneliness that shadow Nicky's words, but the accusation aimed at Faith feels unnecessary, at least to Payson. He had Kaylie the whole time. Nicky shouldn't be playing this sad, lonely boy routine but it's in his voice.

"You're here now," he says. "Better late than never, I guess."

"Alright," Faith says, pulling herself back together. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Nicky, if you show up early enough my mom will probably try to feed you," Payson says, doing her part in trying to ease the tense turn their conversation unexpectedly took.

"Looking forward to it already," Nicky says tenderly. "Night, Faye. Night, Payson."

"Farewell, mon ami," Faith says.

"Je t'aime ma chérie," he replies in such a crafted, precise accent.

"Nicky, you trilingual bastard!" Faith shouts. Payson has to remind her to be quieter. It wouldn't be surprising if Mark and Kim heard that one from the other end of the house. "I love you too, Nixon. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your Faith-infused life. Prep yo self."

The call ends and Faith turns onto her back, staring at the textured ceiling. She takes a deep, dramatic breath that makes her stomach sink all the way in and she slowly lets it out. Suddenly Faith starts squealing, flailing around, kicking her legs and shaking her arms. She can be such a spaz sometimes. Knowing Faith, she'd take that as a compliment.

"He sounded really happy that you're back," Payson says.

"He better be. I got him cool souvenirs. Oh, that reminds me! I have to give you Keelers your souvenirs once I dig them out of my suitcase." Faith sits up and crosses her ankles. "Cool souvenir talk aside, Nicky isn't the one I'm worried about. I'm just praying Kelly's over it, you know? Even Nicky thinks I abandoned him. I hear it in his voice every time we talk."

"He wasn't completely alone," Payson argues. She has to or it's going to bug her for the rest of the night. "He has Kaylie. She always breaks plans with us to hang out with him."

"But that's the worst, isn't it? Being surrounded by people, but still lonely," Faith says. "No, actually, I take it back. That sucks too, but before Kelly showed up here drunk, a _clear_ cry for help, she didn't have _anyone_." Guilt surfaces. It isn't pretty. "It's not like I didn't want to come back, but I had to sort me out before I could even begin to tackle whatever is going on with Kel and whatever bomb Nicky is going to drop on me. You heard him, right? He wants to get something off his chest and guess who's gonna get it." Faith points to herself. "This chick."

"Nicky also said 'better late than never' and I agree. You're here now. Kelly will see that. It's all that matters." Payson isn't so sure if that last part is true or not. She can't give her friend certainty, but she can give her closeness and comfort—two of Faith's favorite things.

"Welcome home, Faith," Payson says quietly.

"Yeah," she says flatly. "Home sweet, terrifying home."

...

Emily can't help, but be a little disappointed.

Rodge does drugs. It shouldn't have come as such a surprise. More than half of Laguna's population has tasted some form of addiction at some point. Despite the strange connection she feels between them (and not necessarily a romantic one) Rodge is a stranger.

After Brian goes to sleep that night, Emily powers up the old Dell laptop they share and Googles cocaine. She worries her mom will suddenly walk in or Brian will find it in the browser history. Emily looks across the room and sees her brother asleep in his bed. She's turning seventeen, he just turned fifteen and they share a room. No privacy whatsoever.

Emily stays up later than she should and reads up on momentary effects of cocaine and the long-term problems. It's sad because Rodge is smart. He likes to read books and draw parallels between fiction and real life and he has potential. To find out he's careless enough to throw it all away for a fine white powder is devastating.

The next day at school Rodge doesn't show up to homeroom. While Marcus is disappointed, Emily is glad, too tired to confront him, especially after being glued to WebMD all night. Rodge isn't stupid so he probably saw straight through her flimsy library book excuse, which means things are going to be awkward. She doesn't have English in today's rotation and it may be one of her favorite classes, but Emily is more than happy.

"So how was your bike date?" Kaylie asks as they walk the halls later that day.

"It wasn't a date. It was actually really weird."

"Weird like he was a creep who still collects beanie babies or weird like awkward first date?"

"Weird like I thought he was one person, but it turns out I was wrong," Emily says. She's sure Kaylie hears the confliction in her voice and doesn't even try to hide it. "Forget it…"

"No," Kaylie says. "I know the feeling."

Curious, Emily tilts her head. "Are things still tense with Nicky?"

"Things are better. He apologized this morning so I don't know why I still feel like this. Sometimes I think it's just me and how messed up I am, but then other times I think it's him too and it makes me crazy to think he isn't trying hard enough and how it makes me look like I'm trying too hard." Kaylie snakes her arm through Emily's. "Boys suck."

"I agree." Emily cranes her neck to accommodate their height difference and presses the side of her head to Kaylie's. "So have you talked to Payson yet?"

"Nope."

"Kay…"

Suddenly, Kaylie reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. Emily plays lookout as Kaylie texts a reply. She can't help, but notice that Kaylie's texting Shauna Donovan. Emily swears she sees a "lol" in there.

"Since when are you and Shauna Donovan tight?"

"She's only the mother of my one and only niece," Kaylie replies. "She's actually really cool once you get to know her."

Emily laughs. "I almost forgot you missed Lauren's drunken post-Party for Peace rant about AJ and Shauna. Apparently, they had a run-in. Lo went on and on about how she doesn't even like AJ anymore and it isn't like AJ and Shauna are dating so she doesn't understand why Shauna is so threatened, blah, blah, where's my wine cooler, blah, blah."

"Right, Em, because I'm really upset I missed this week's episode of Drunken Rants with Lo," Kaylie says sarcastically. "Do you think she meant it? About not liking my brother anymore?"

"Who knows, you know?" Emily shrugs her shoulders. "But if Razor were here there's no doubt in my mind Lauren and him would have matching 'LID' tattoos on their foreheads. Why? Would it be so bad if she still had a thing for AJ?"

"All I know is AJ's in a good place in his life and Shauna keeps him in line. I'm not saying I'd be against it, but how would you feel about Lo dating your brother? I swear we make no dating each other's exes _and brothers_ a rule."

"Don't be silly, Kay," Emily says. "Even if we did, rules are made for Lo to break."

"Oh, why must Lo be so Lo?" Kaylie muses. "Seriously, I've been avoiding the cheer squad since I was elected leader by default. The Colorado Classic is coming up and I've been so swamped with my family and Nicky that I don't even know where to start."

"I don't know anything remotely related to cheerleading. I fell asleep that time you made us watch Bring It On," Emily confesses. "Well, good luck."

"Thanks, Em. I'll take all the luck I can get."

The rest of the day goes by at a crawl. Work seems to stretch on longer than school. Emily mostly spends her time at the cash register, reading. She's ready to pass out once she gets home. Brian is the only one home, situated in front of their Brady Bunch era television set.

"Hey," she says softly. "I am exhausted."

Brian smiles sympathetically. "Want me to do your homework for you?"

Emily searches his face for any sign of a cruel joke. "Serious?"

"I finished mine hours ago. It's not a big deal. I just want to help out around here."

"You do enough by staying healthy and keeping up with your own schoolwork," Emily assures him, closing her eyes. "You're just a kid, Bry. Enjoy it."

"Emily, you're only sixteen. We're, like, a year apart right now."

"Yeah, but in April I'll be seventeen, which is practically eighteen and we'll be two years apart and balance will return to the universe once again." Emily's mind wanders towards the future and anxiety creeps up. "If you think about it, Bry, I haven't been a kid in a really long time."

Cocking his head to one side, Brian asks, "Do you wish you still were?"

"Kind of, but not really," Emily says. "I'm happy to help out around here and help mom whatever way I can. It isn't ideal, but it's what we have, right?"

"You know, Em, you're kinda my hero."

Emily hugs her brother, knowing she can't give him much more. She can't give him any of what he deserves, but she can let him know he isn't alone. Once they pull apart, Brian digs through his pockets and pulls out a folded piece of paper. "By the way, I went down to the Laundromat with mom the other day and she found this in your pocket."

"Thanks." Emily unfolds it and reads over the chicken scratch. "It's a poem, I think."

Emily reads it aloud, hoping Brian might know.

"It sounds familiar, but I'm not exactly an encyclopedia. A calculator, maybe." Brian turns to their laptop and types the first line into Google. It takes some time to load with the crappy Wi-Fi they steal from their neighbor. "Ha, I knew it. Emily Dickenson _the Crazy_."

"She wasn't crazy."

"She was a recluse, obsessed with death, and her work was an insane stream of consciousness," Brian argues. "On top of undiagnosed agoraphobia, she was a lesbian."

"You don't know that."

"She wrote passionate letters to other women. It says so right here!"

"It' was a different time back then," Emily argues. "The world didn't have all the gender norms and expectations it does now, all of which only started after women won the right to vote. And don't you forget it."

Before Brian can deliver his counter argument, the front door flies open and those traces of happiness fade. Without realizing it, they've been conditioned to expect the worst.

"Kids!" Chloe shouts. "I'm home early!"

"Is Bruce parking the car?" Emily asks. She's ready to leave the room, but Brian keeps her on the couch. She doesn't rip away from his hold, but says, "If he's here, I'll be in my room."

"Emily, come on!" Brian urges her. "You and mom have been dodging each other forever now. I'm sick of it."

"It isn't even that," Emily lies. "Like I said, I have homework."

"Bruce isn't here," Chloe says once she joins her children. She's still in her uniform from the diner, arms full with brown paper bags. Brian wheels over to give her a hand.

Doubtful, Emily remains rooted in place. "He isn't?"

"I told him I wanted to spend the rest of the day with my kids and he wasn't happy at first, but he gets it." Chloe sets her purse down and gladly hands the groceries over to her son. "See, Emily, Bruce can be a reasonable guy…when he wants to be."

"What did you bribe him with?"

"Emily," Brian says. "Can you just be happy they're trying?"

"I thought we could bake together," Chloe suggests. She clasps her hands and the large bracelets on her wrists clamor. She's so tired, bags beneath her eyes, begging for sleep, but Chloe slaps on the brightest smile she can, just for them. It's admirable, but still so sad.

"Sounds great, mom," Brian says. "Right, Em?"

"Sure."

Chloe pulls out the ingredients and, of course, it's instant box brownie mix. She searches their mostly empty cupboards for a pan while Brian drags Emily to the kitchen. While the oven preheats, they combine the ingredients. Brian and Chloe joke around like there's nothing wrong and it drives Emily to the brink of insanity.

"Are we really doing this?" Emily asks right after Chloe gives her son permission to lick the leftover batter off the spatula. "Are we really going to pretend that everything is perfect when it clearly isn't?"

"Dude," Brian says irritably. "What's your problem, Debbie Downer?"

"I'd rather be a Debbie Downer than live in your ridiculous fantasy world!"

"Just one day, Em!" Brian shouts. "Can't you just give us that?"

"Brian, calm down," Chloe says gently. "Here, you get the batter into the pan and into the oven. Let me talk to your sister. Em, come here."

Brian does as he's told and Emily does too. She follows Chloe over to their little dining table that fits four. Calmly, Chloe asks, "You think we can talk about this without screaming our heads off or one of us walking out?"

Emily doesn't say anything, staring down at her hands crossed on the table.

"Last time, I know we both said some things we aren't proud of—"

"I meant every word," Emily interjects.

"Okay then," Chloe says, her voice trailing off. "I know Bruce can be difficult…"

"Difficult?" Emily squeezes her hands into fists. "He smokes, he drinks, he's rude and the list just goes o. He treats all of us like we're beneath him, like we should be happy he's ruining our lives. Why do you even put up with him?"

"No one's perfect, Emily."

"Yeah, but no one has to be that far from perfect either."

"I love him," Chloe says. Emily refuses to accept that, staring at her hands. "I know to you it probably doesn't seem like it, but he loves me. If he didn't, why would he stick around?"

"Because he uses our money and eats our food. It's just easy for him."

"Emily, can you please try?" Chloe is so close to crying, Emily can't watch. "I'm begging you."

"I've been trying."

"Then can you trust that I know what I'm doing here?" Chloe asks. "I've talked to Bruce and we reset some ground rules. He isn't allowed over without me here, he's going to start spending father-son time with Brian and he's going to be civil. Emily, please. All I want is for everything to work out between all of us. I want us to be a family."

"Fine." Emily gives in despite every bit of her screaming this is going to end in disaster. Emily wants to be a fighter. She knows wrong from right, but for some reason it's so hard to follow through, especially when Chloe takes her fist, uncoils her fingers and gives her hand a squeeze. "But if he goes back on his promise, I am done giving that guy chances."

"Thank you. That's all I'm asking." Chloe goes over to Emily with open arms. She doesn't want to, but family is all about compromise. "I'm so sorry for how I reacted, Em. I promise things are going to be different. These last few days have been torture. No more, okay?"

Emily doesn't say anything, but she does place her hand on her mother's back as Chloe hugs her tight. They go back to baking, filling the apartment with some much needed warmth. While sharing about their day, Emily feels her phone buzz and finds a surprise text from Jody.

_Em, our boy has surfaced! D won't tell me where he is but says he's alive. If you're ready n want his new #, hit me back. I know this isn't ideal, but u kno u need it. Hope yr ok. Love u. _

After reading it over five times, Emily feels the knot in her stomach twist. Her heart speeds up and her hands go clammy. It hurts that he told Jody (and probably Razor) before her. Emily checks her inbox again, but there aren't any other messages. Instead of getting his number from Jody and calling him out herself, Emily tosses her phone away. She doesn't want to deal with Damon Young right now since he obviously doesn't want to deal with her.

Instead, Emily checks the phone Rodge gave her and there are twenty-five new texts—new orders. And so her descent into criminal things begins.

…

_Never mind searching for who you are. Search for the person you aspire to be. -Robert Brault / Almost through the week. Hang in there! ;-) _

"No way."

"Yes, _way_."

Max and Lauren spending time alone in the newsroom becomes a regular thing. The table between them is covered in printed photos and scattered Skittles. Lauren leans forward, engaged, and Max does the same. The yearbook meeting has ended, but instead of leaving, Lauren stayed. Not only is Max nice to look at, but also he's easy to talk to.

"You're telling me you've met Donatella Versace?"

"Yes, I have," he tries to convince her. "Milan fashion week, two years ago. My mom let me tag along for once. They're good friends. Yeah, that's what all the girls usually swoon over. They don't even listen to me when I say the best part was getting to shadow this photojournalist whose job and life I kinda want in the near future."

"That's awesome," Lauren says. "So what's Donatella freaking Versace like?"

Max laughs. Before he can go on with anecdotes from Italy, there's a knock at the door. Ike pops his head in and his presence brings a dose of reality into the room. It reminds Lauren who she is and who Max is and how they lose sight of that every time they're in here alone.

"Miss Lauren," Ike says. "You busy?"

"Not entirely up to me." Lauren kicks the question to Max with a nod. "Slave driver?"

"You can have a five minutes break," Max says. A joke. After all, they're off the clock and Lauren is here because she wants to be. Giving them some privacy, Max rolls his chair to the other end of the room and accesses the class computer.

"What's up, Benny?" Lauren asks.

Pulling up a chair at her side, Ike fakes a cough and does a horrible job. "I think I'm coming down with something. I need a doctor's note with a womanly touch."

"Let me see." Lauren snaps the slip of paper away from him and inspects it. Nice. Ike managed to score actual authentic-looking doctor notepaper. She'd ask how, but knows she'll regret it. "What should it be for?"

Ike looks at all the loose photos on the table in front of them. When he reaches for one, Lauren slaps his hand away. "Ow. Um, whatever gets me out of gym."

"Hmm, hemorrhoids?" Ike's discomfort makes Lauren laugh aloud.

"I was thinking more along the lines of asthma," Ike says. "Not that an imaginary case of hemorrhoids can make my sparkling reputation any worse, but it isn't very sexy either."

"Fine." Lauren scribbles on the slip of paper. This isn't the first doctor's note she's written to get Ike out of something. Writing these excuses have become second nature. "Here."

Ike snaps it out of her hand. "Thanks, mom!"

"As long as you eat all your vegetables and be less of a little bitch, sweetie," Lauren says, putting on the most mockingly maternal voice she can.

Walking backwards, towards the door, Ike shouts, "I'll do my best to make you proud!"

Lauren doesn't even try to mask how terribly amused she is. Ike has his moments.

Max, who'd been curiously watching, seems perplexed. "How does that work?"

Leaning back in her seat, Lauren counters with a question of her own. "I've been meaning to ask, how are you related to Nicky Russo and what the hell was that at the party?"

Max rolls his chair over to Lauren. Arms crossed, she gives him an expectant look as he tries to mentally find a starting point. Ike broke them out of their little yearbook bubble. Now things are back to being real. The distance between Royal and Reject restored.

"His dad is my mom's brother so that makes us first cousins," Max explains. "Why else do you think Nicky and Kelly Parker were in the yearbook after being here for not even a semester? I thought it'd be a funny little reminder of Tanner's Torture on Parker."

"So you know Kelly Parker then? Is that why you've been such a slave driver? Are you trying to punish me for it? Because, if you didn't catch the Livestream—"

"I did and no, I'm not punishing you for anything. I'm a slave driver because I actually care about the yearbook. I am not a fan of Kelly Parker. I may have even unintentionally started the 'I Hate Kelly Parker' anti-fansite. Off the record, I might even be the one who anonymously sends in embarrassing candid pictures of her."

"So was the trampoline comment about him and her?" Lauren asks, straight out and bold faced. She barely remembers anything after running into AJ and Shauna, but the Royals will gossip to anyone with ears and she knows the gist of what happened during I Never. Does that game ever end well? Do any games involving liquor?

Clearing his throat, Max says, "I was drunk and upset and shouldn't have brought it up. That's Nicky's business."

"Max, just tell me," Lauren orders. "If we're being real, I don't buy anything Nicky Russo is selling. These fights and reunions him and Kaylie have every other week are such bullshit. Kaylie is my best friend and if your asshole cousin is going to hurt her then I have a right to know so I can warn her or at least watch for warning signs since she's too 'in love' to see."

"It's none—wait, did you just say Kaylie's _in love_ with Nicky? Really?"

"Duh. I'm sure she's never actually said it to him because that'd be a Kaylie freak out rant I'd remember, but why else would she try so hard with him? If you couldn't already tell I'm still iffy on their whole relationship. And don't think about feeding any of this to the rumor mill because Kaylie knows. I'm going to look out for her. It's what besties do."

"Funny." Max pushes off from the table and rolls across the room in his swivel chair. "Judging by how much time she spends with my girlfriend and how much time you spend with Ike the Dyke I'd think otherwise. Why are we even talking about this when I asked about Ike first?"

"It's gym," Lauren says. "Any excuse can get you out of stupid dodge ball. I could have written that he has an ingrown toenail and he would have been benched. Knowing Ike, they'll probably be happy to bench him. He isn't exactly Sporty Spice."

"Ginger then?"

Lauren laughs. Max Spencer knows the Spice Girls.

"And that's not what I meant," Max says. "I meant that friendship. You, Lauren Tanner, being actual friends with Ike, how do you have anything in common?"

"We don't," Lauren says. In her head, she adds, _besides junkie moms_. "Ike doesn't defy me so I keep him around. From what I've seen, Maeve's dating you for the same reason."

"Ouch, that one really hurt," he says sarcastically. "You know, you can leave if you want. I just need to proofread the clubs pages. It's my last yearbook. I'll be damned if it isn't perfect."

He dismisses her so Lauren doesn't argue. She grabs her bag and is about to leave when she stops, something else on her mind. "Max, can I ask you something personal?"

"Like?"

"When did you start thinking about college?"

"Never. I'm not college material," Max says. "That's why I'm the odd man out during family functions. Nicky, of course, is going to college and going to be a doctor. That's all my grandpa talks about while I sit in the corner with my camera. My grandpa, he's old-school Italian. He always gives me this speech about how he didn't come to this country and work this hard so I can take pictures, but whatever. I'm doing what I want and I love photography."

That's far from the answer Lauren expected. "So you do all this extracurricular stuff just because?"

"Seems so."

"What's your plan for after graduation?"

"My mom has a friend in the fashion world who's a big name photographer. I've shadowed him for a few shoots a couple summers ago and he's willing to apprentice me full time in the fall. It looks like I'm moving to New York."

"What about Maeve?" Lauren asks. "I heard she's moving to LA to model."

"We haven't talked about the future much," Max says. It comes as a surprise because Max and Maeve are that couple that supposedly has everything figured out. Apparently that isn't so. "If you feed this to the, what'd you call it? The rumor mill? I'll lie and deny, but, honestly, I don't see things lasting past the summer."

His little confession is shocking at first, but the more Lauren thinks about it, not at all.

"Want my advice? Tell her now rather than later," Lauren says. "Waiting for the day right before you take off is just going to make things worse."

"And ruin senior year for everyone? No thank you." Max is conflicted to the point where Lauren might actually feel sorry for Maeve Benson. The girl has no idea she's getting a broken heart to go along with her diploma at graduation. Max laughs. "Way to go, Max. I sure know how to make a conversation about me. Why'd you ask? Are you thinking about college?"

"I have no clue what I want to do with my life or what I want to study, but I do want to go to college," Lauren explains. "I've been thinking about Southern California, but CU Boulder is always an option."

"Something tells me you'd fit in wherever you decide to go. From what I saw at your party, you've already got an in with the CU crowd. And if you go down to SoCal you have the whole Valley Girl thing going for you."

"Shut up," Lauren says, resisting the urge to slap his arm. The last thing she wants is for things to feel flirty again. "I guess that's my cue to leave."

"Wait," Max calls out to her. "I hear extra curricular activities help. They always talk about wanting well-rounded students. If you're good maybe I'll pass the yearbook torch your way."

"Yeah right," Lauren says. "You're the only one in yearbook who actually talks to me."

"You aren't bad. You know, when you retract the claws. If you can rule the cheer squad with an iron fist, you'd do great in here. The yearbook staff could use that. Think about it. Like I said, you have an interesting eye for things." Lauren goes to the door, but Max stops her again. "Oh, and, before you leave, you're going to the Valentine's Day dance, right?"

"Love-Fuck? V-Card Dance?" Lauren actually laughs. What a stupid question.

"I'll take that as a no?"

"Duh."

"Sorry, but you kind of have to," Max says. "Not to dance, but to take pictures. I need some shots for the newspaper and final edits for the yearbook need to be shipped off ASAP. Half our staff is on the dance committee so I need people on the floor, taking pictures and that including you, photoslave."

Lauren is not happy, closer to dumbstruck. "Are you kidding?"

"Do I need to take it up with Matsui?" Max says, more of a warning than a threat.

"Aren't we past blackmailing me into doing this?" Lauren sighs, sliding her fingers up and down the strap of her bag as she pretends to think about it. "Whatever. Just don't expect good pictures and I am not staying the entire time."

"Thank you, photoslave," Max says. "Who knows? Maybe I'll save you a dance."

"Because I bet your girlfriend would love."

Lauren gives him a look that's clearly a warning before she leaves the room.

It's a little scary how yearbook has become her new cheerleading and she's fine with not being in charge. It almost feels like this little break from cheerleading could easily turn into a break-up, but for what? Yearbook full-time? Lauren shakes away such a stupid thought.

When Lauren gets home from school, Steve is in the living room, pacing with his phone to his ear. Falling back against the couch, Lauren simultaneously texts Razor while surfing the channels in search of anything that'll serve as quality procrastination.

Halfway through the most recent episode of _Real Housewives: Palm Springs_, Steve comes to sit next to her. Lauren quickly exits out of the conversation she's having with Razor about which housewives would win in a fight. Steve rests his feet on the coffee table (where stupid kids did lines of coke last weekend) and tosses his phone away, disgusted.

"Hey, daddy," Lauren says gently. "What's going on?"

"Chicago needs me again." Steve looks so tired and so much older than the image of him in her head. It's frightening what the real world can do to a person. "It's a mess out there."

Lauren frowns, crushed. "But you just got back."

"That's what I tried to tell Jamison. Everything was fine when I left, but now, we just closed a major corporate deal and the CEO lands himself in the hospital, intensive care. Everyone is freaking out." Steve appears just as crushed as his daughter. "I need to go back."

"Should I pour you a drink?" Lauren asks. It'd distract her and him.

"You can help by staying away from my liquor cabinet. Thank you very much," Steve says, peeking open a suspicious eye at her. She automatically plays innocent. "But like I told you the other day, I didn't hear anything negative from Darby or Matsui and I'm proud. You can stay home alone without needing parental supervision. I'd rather be here for you, but…"

"Business calls. I get it," Lauren says. "So you trust me again?"

"I never stopped trusting you, Lauren, but if you need to hear it, yes. I do."

"Good, because there's something I want to talk to you about…" Lauren sits up and close to her dad. "I personally think it's early, but apparently everyone else is saying junior year is the time to start thinking about the future, specifically college."

Steve's eyes grow big. "College?"

"College."

"To tell you the truth, I always thought I'd have to force you kicking and screaming to even consider higher education. But you're telling me you've actually been thinking about college?" he asks, to which Lauren nods resolutely.

Once it registers in his head, Steve smiles like Lauren hasn't seen since her golden years of gymnastics. She can tell he's proud of her and in turn, Lauren feels proud of herself. She can really see herself getting use to this.

…

By Monday the Cruz Castle mostly clears out and nothing makes Kaylie sadder.

Alex is long gone. Shauna flew back to Palm Springs, having to get back to work. Leo leaves tomorrow morning, spending his last day cleaning out his old room and hanging out with old friends. It surprises everyone when AJ decides to stick around and keeps Amelia with him, giving Shauna a little time to herself after such a mentally and physically draining weekend.

After a morning of watching Ronnie cook them a feast and AJ freaking out over it, reluctant to eat anything or let Amelia eat anything for the fear of food poisoning, Kaylie goes to school with Maeve and Max as usual. The second Maeve's convertible pulls into her spot, Kaylie spots Nicky waiting with a bouquet of flowers.

Nicky Russo is pulling a grand, romantic gesture? Is she still asleep and dreaming? Possibly.

"Hi," Kaylie says unsurely, getting out of the car. "Nicky, what are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood," Nicky says with his most charming smile. He holds up the bouquet, fresh and vibrant, red cup-shaped tulips with long green stems. Kaylie takes them, feeling the plastic they're wrapped in, hearing it crinkle. Her eyes inspect every perfect pedal and she knows this is real.

Smiling coyly, Kaylie asks, "You were in the neighborhood?"

His smile fades, replaced with apprehension. He shouldn't have to feel bad about anything he has to say to her unless he did something that's going to hurt her. Kaylie holds her breath at the thought alone.

"The truth is…" Nicky rakes his fingers through his dark hair. "Um, Faith is in town. She spent the night at Payson's. I came to pick her up and had breakfast with the Keelers so, yes, I was literally in the neighborhood."

"Faith put you up to apologizing, didn't she? Aw, how romantic, cousin," Max says from the sideline. Maeve smacks him hard in the stomach, making Max stifle a groan. She scolds him in hushed whispers and Max ignores her, irritable.

"What? I'm just being honest," Nicky says. "Honesty is romantic, right?"

"Very. Surprising coming from you," Maeve says. "We'll leave you two alone now. Don't screw it up, Nicky." She grabs the strap of Max's camera hanging around his neck and drags him away, disregarding his request for her to let him say hi to Faith. Maeve refuses and Max obeys.

"I hope you like the flowers," Nicky says, once they're alone.

Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, Kaylie asks, "Did Faith pick these out too?"

"No. I did all on my own. I even made her wait in the car. If I let her pick, you'd know it. I probably would have ended up paying for three-dozen overpriced roses. I figured we don't need all that. Too showy and cheesy. These are more subtle, but still beautiful." Nicky keeps his eyes on Kaylie all throughout his explanation. "Kaylie, now that we've both had time to cool down, I thought we could talk about what happened?"

Kaylie nods, leaning back against the trunk of Maeve's car.

"Kaylie, that night, I wasn't drinking enough to bring out obnoxiously drunk Barcelona Nicky, but I did have a few. Not that it's an excuse, because it's not, but that mixed with Max drinking and causing trouble, things didn't play out how I would have wanted."

"I get that. What happened, that was far from how I wanted the night to end," Kaylie says. "And maybe I overreacted. You're right. We've both had other people in our lives before we started dating and that isn't something we can change. I just wish I could have found out from you and not Max, especially in a room of all my friends."

"Me too."

"And I'm sorry if Faith and Kelly are always the first to come to mind. It's just that they're such a big part of your life and I can't help, but be a little…jealous," Kaylie confesses. She feels her face heating up and tries her hardest to not acknowledge it. "And I can't believe I'm admitting this to you."

Nicky knits his brows in confusion. "Jealous of what?"

"Come on, Nicky." Kaylie lightly kicks at his sneakers with her hot pink running shoes. "Faith Giancana is cute and sweet and interesting and she knows you better than anyone else…but you're right! What's there to be jealous of?"

Nicky nods, and at least he can pick up on sarcasm. He takes her hand in his.

"Kaylie, I'm telling you right now that you don't have anything to worry about and I'm sorry you thought you did. Faith's my best friend, but you're _my girlfriend_. I wouldn't do that to you, Princess, not ever and not for anyone."

Kaylie lays the bouquet of flowers on the trunk of Maeve's car and encircles Nicky's neck. She feels the effort in his hug and how he means everything he's saying. Maybe this latest fight was enough to make him see how close they come to losing each other with every argument.

"You aren't mad at me anymore, are you?" Nicky asks with his lips nearly touching her neck.

"No. Staying mad at you is not something I'm good at." Kaylie steadiest herself with hands on his shoulders and kisses him. "You should probably go. You're going to be late for school."

"I'm taking a Mental Health Day," Nicky says. It should've been obvious by how he's wearing his favorite royal blue hoodie and dark jeans instead of his hideous prep school uniform. "Faith and I are going to Elitch Gardens to ride roller coasters and so you know, we're probably going to see Kelly before that."

"Oh," Kaylie says, surprised. "Okay."

"You don't sound too happy about that."

"Honestly, I'm not," she says, "but I'm happy you told me."

"Again, Kaylie, nothing to worry about." Nicky hugs her and kisses her again. "I'll call you tonight, but it might be a little later than usual. It's probably going to be an all-day thing and it's a rule that we turn off our phones when we go, but don't worry. _I will call you_."

"I—I believe you."

"Oh, and I know it kind of goes without saying," he says, lacing his fingers with hers, "but I thought I'd ask…will you go to the Valentine's dance with me? Or, well, since it's your school, will you take me to your Valentine's Day dance?"

Kaylie laughs at how adorably awkward he is and nods before kissing him again. After saying goodbye, Kaylie watches Nicky go across the parking lot to where he parked. The windows are tinted and it's a good distance away so Kaylie can't make out who else is in there. Kaylie watches the black SUV disappear before she goes to class, eager to show off the tulips.

While she's in school all day, getting harassed by cheerleaders about the choreography (that Kaylie is yet to choreograph), Kaylie keeps thinking about Nicky reunited with Faith and probably Kelly. This all seems so random. Nicky doesn't skip school and he shouldn't be, especially this close to graduation, but he will always drop everything to accommodate Faith.

They did have a good talk in the parking lot. All it takes is one look at the tulips in her locker to make her smile and miss him. Sometimes Kaylie thinks these concerns and doubts she has are all in her head. If she keeps going on like this she'll probably drive herself insane.

The other thing driving her crazy is her shaky friendship with Payson. There have been a number of times where Kaylie reached for her phone, intending to call Payson and ask if they can talk, but Kaylie already knows Payson is going to defend Kelly Parker to the bitter end. Kaylie is expected to lie and say she understands Payson's friendship with the Denver Death Eater when really she doesn't.

After school, Kaylie has cheer practice, another confrontation she isn't looking forward to. Kaylie approaches the gym, focused and determined, but the whole practice turns out to be a disaster. Right when she walks in, Kaylie is swarmed by cheerleaders with complaints about the lack of choreography, the music choices and deciding who goes where and who's doing what. It's too much. Lauren usually tells everyone what to do and they do it without question. Kaylie tries to delegate while keeping everyone happy and it isn't turning out how she'd like.

"They're driving me crazy!" Kaylie flops onto her bed with a groan while Maeve sits at the foot, looking through one of Ronnie's gossip magazines she found in the living room.

"Because you have to repeat yourself a million times and decode all the 'likes' in random parts of their speech," Maeve teases. Her friend isn't doing a good job of making her feel better.

"Maeve, they aren't stupid."

"They, _like_, aren't, _like_?"

"Stop," Kaylie warns, sitting up. "Lauren usually bosses them around and they mindlessly listen because she's a badass former gymnast and I just look cute, smile and flip around."

"Kaylie, you're one of the sweetest people I know. Sickeningly sweet, even."

"You meant that as a compliment, right?"

"Absolutely," Maeve says. "Don't try to be Lauren. Be you. Everyone actually likes you. I'm sure they're happy to be liberated. Remind me, how did two juniors become co-captains?"

"The Morgan Wolf incident," Kaylie explains. "She would've been captain if she didn't piss off Lauren and then, you know."

"That poor bitch." Maeve is sympathetic for maybe a second, but then forgets all about it and says, "So are you ready to go shopping for the V-Day dance?"

"Yeah, let's go." Though Kaylie has a number of options in her closet, nothing sounds better than retail therapy. She reaches for her purse when there's a knock on the door.

It opens a second later and Kaylie is certain she hears Maeve literally gasp. AJ is in the doorway with only a towel wrapped around his waist. His dark hair is wet, slicked back, and his chiseled, tan body glistens with water. The last time Kaylie saw Maeve look at a boy this way was the night they had a _Twilight_ marathon and Jacob took his shirt off in _New Moon_.

"Hello there, Mr. Wet and Gorgeous," Maeve says with a purr to her voice.

"Hey." AJ smirks and stands a little taller, his chest puffed out, eyeing Maeve. Kaylie swears she's going to be sick. "I don't think I've seen you around before…"

"I wouldn't expect you to. I was a sophomore when you were a senior at Taft and I sure as hell didn't look like this," Maeve says confidently, outlining her hourglass figure with her hands. "Where has Kaylie been hiding you from me?"

"Yes, I have been hiding him from you for obvious reasons," Kaylie says. "Why do you think I've been meeting you out in the driveway in the mornings? Maeve, you seem to remember my brother, AJ, the loser one. AJ, this is my friend, Maeve. Oh and quick question, why aren't you wearing clothes?"

"I just got out of the shower and I didn't know we had company."

"Oh, don't put clothes on just because of me!" Maeve says. "By all means, a body that great deserves to be flaunted. That's my motto."

"Okay. Ew. Stop looking at each other. Sorry, but it this isn't happening _ever_. Maeve, you have a boyfriend and he has a baby _and_ Shauna Donovan."

Maeve's eyes go wide. "You _married_ the girl you got knocked up in high school?"

"I would if she'd say yes," AJ jokes.

With the strap of her purse over her shoulder, Kaylie grabs Maeve's wrist and drags her past AJ out the door. Before descending the stairs, as an afterthought, Kaylie asks, "Did you need something, AJ?"

"Do you know where Ronnie's at?"

"Cooking class."

"_Again_?"

"I guess. I don't know." Kaylie never devotes much thought to the reasons Ronnie gives for being away or how often she uses the same ones over again. "Why are you looking for her anyways?"

"Do you know Mrs. Winchester's number? I'm supposed to be taking Amelia out for dinner with the country club ladies and Amelia hasn't woken up from her nap yet. You know how she goes angry baboon when you wake her up so I wanted to tell Head Country Club Lady we might be a little late."

"Country Club Ladies? Is that like an upscale Denver strip club?" Maeve asks.

"No," AJ says. "They're literally country club ladies—old, preppy, judgmental ladies, but damn, I wish we were going to a strip club. Anyways, they're interested in the organization and if we collaborate on an event then it looks like I'll be hanging out in Boulder for a little longer."

"No argument here," Maeve says. Her eyes rake over AJ like she's mentally licking his abs so Kaylie grabs Maeve by the arm and shows her to the stairs.

"AJ, go put clothes on," Kaylie says sharply. He really isn't helping, not even trying to cover up. "No, I don't know Mrs. Winchester's number and we're going out so bye."

"Wait, that's your red convertible out front?"

Maeve halts at the top of the stairs. She takes every opportunity to talk about her car. Really, her and Lauren aren't _that_ different. "Candy apple red metallic, '70 Buick Electra. She's all mine. My grandpa had her restored, re-vamped and left her to me."

"Not bad," AJ says. "I would love to get behind the wheel."

"Play your cards right and the opportunity might present itself."

"Okay, I'm still right here and still don't approve," Kaylie says, waving her hands around in frustration. It's enough that there's something going on between her brother and Lauren, but now Maeve? "May, let's go. AJ, I'll be back later."

"Bye," Maeve says, waving her Miss America wave and wearing a matching smile.

Halfway down the stairs, Kaylie asks, "Maeve, do you flirt with all my family members just to creep me out?"

"Kaylie, it's not my fault everyone in your family is really hot!" Maeve stops at the family photo in the hallway, inspecting it. "Next on my list is your other brother and then your dad. And you might want to commit this to memory. I'll expect it in your maid of honor speech when I marry into your family. One of three ways."

Kaylie rolls her eyes and pulls the front door open. She's ready to walk out, but then nearly runs into a stranger with a familiar face. He looks just as surprised as she does, a fist poised as if he was right about to knock. Kaylie recognizes him immediately, but not as quickly as Maeve who gasps louder than she did upstairs.

"Oh, my God! You're Damon Young. Do you know you're freaking Damon Young?"

Kaylie narrows her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi. I know this is crazy and inappropriate and unprofessional coming to your house unannounced, but I really need to speak with Ronnie Cruz about Sheppard Records and my career," Damon says, as if he rehearsed this a million times. "I know rule number one is not to go bugging the bosses off the clock, but I hope you'll understand that this record deal and my music mean everything to me."

"She's not home," Kaylie says flatly. "Do you not know who I am?"

"Well, I just assumed you're Ronnie's daughter?" Damon says, clueless.

"Yeah," Kaylie says. "I'm also Emily's best friend. You know, _Emily Kmetko_, your girlfriend or, well, ex-girlfriend, right? After you got your manager to break up with her for you. What kind of person does that?"

"Oh snap," Maeve says. "Even Joe Jonas had the decency to text Taylor Swift himself. And I thought break-up via text was horrible. Your manager, really?"

Damon blinks. "Wait, who are you again?"

"Kaylie Cruz."

"And I'm Maeve Benson," she says, a little flirty. "I love your single almost as much as I love hearing that you're single."

"Even though she isn't single," Kaylie says, trying to keep her taller friend behind her. "Does Emily know you're in town?"

"No, and you can't tell her," Damon says quickly. He backs away, down the front steps, finally understanding how big of a mistake he just made. "This was an amazingly bad idea. I'll, um, call Ronnie's office tomorrow morning. I'm sorry to bother you. You just need to forget you ever saw me."

"Deal," Maeve says, "but only if I can get your autograph."

"Maeve!"

"You're right," Maeve agrees. "A picture too."

"Anything. Just, please don't tell Emily."

Damon stops where he is, two steps down so the girls appear taller than him. He looks her straight in the eyes and Kaylie is taken aback for a second. She loses her train of thought, instead pondering how someone's eyes can be that intense a shade of blue. If Hot Boy Mind Control is a real thing, Kaylie swears he's using it on her right now.

"Please?" Damon takes a step up, closer to the girls. "I think we can agree it'd be best if she heard it from me first and not anyone else."

Kaylie thinks of her most recent situation with Nicky. Damon is lucky he said the right thing at the right time.

"How long are you going to be in town?" Kaylie quietly asks.

"I don't know."

"I'll give you till the end of the week—Friday," Kaylie says. "Then I'm telling her."

"Alright," he agrees. "I'll take your picture, but you can't post it anywhere until after Friday."

"Sounds like we have ourselves an agreement!" Maeve claps her hands excitedly.

Damon's pouty lips curl in a smile and it's too easy to imagine a mob of screaming girls swooning at the sight of it. Maeve shoves her phone to Kaylie, drapes her arms around Damon and pops her foot for the picture. Damon is clearly uncomfortable and Kaylie secretly enjoys it. Maeve offers to take one of Kaylie with Damon, but she declines. Payson is already upset with her over silly pictures. The last thing she needs is Emily upset with her too.

"Tisk. Tisk. Kaylie-cakes. You just made up with your boyfriend and already you're eyefucking your friend's ex. Apparently, your sweetness is deceptive."

Kaylie 's eyes go from Damon getting into his car and driving off to Maeve laughing. "Wow. Hot guys everywhere I look at the Cruz casa. I'm officially hanging out here more often."

Maeve tries different Instagram filters on her picture with the up-and-coming artist, leaving Kaylie to get lost in the memory of Damon Young's impossibly haunting blue eyes.

…

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Note:<strong> So, we were talking about Emily's officially confirmed absence from the Final 8 and though Em got annoying and manic towards the end, surprisingly enough this made both of us a little sad. Maybe it's just for consistency's sake and how we like things full circle. Anyways, does anyone know if KP is coming back? We won't even bother asking about Nicky…

**HAPPY HALLOWEEN WEEKEND, y'all!** Hope you're all killin' it and lookin' fine doin' it!

**Review**_**.**_

#WeFab #LLD2 #LLDforever


	10. You Love Love Love When You Know I Can't

**Warning:** Hold on to your hearts, lovers. Someone's must break.

* * *

><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

_A life without love is like a year without summer. – Swedish Dude / Happy Valentine's Day, Lo _

Lauren likes to glance at that text from Razor as often as possible, attempting to distract herself from how the Valentine's Day dance is the stupidest thing in the world.

For one, they hold it in the gym. No amount of red and pink paper decorations can mask the lingering stench of sweat, tears and low self-esteem. A decent amount of people showed up, mostly couples, except for the few groups of girls on one side and the group of boys on the other, floaters and wallflowers in between. It all seems so juvenile to Lauren.

She snaps photos of unsuspecting teens just for them to call out after her in protest, saying they weren't ready. Lauren shouts back, "That's what candid means!" and mumbles, "stupid," as she searches for a new set of victims. Her goal here is to get decent pictures and get out.

Lauren would much rather be in her pink Juicy sweats in her room that's heated by an actual heater and not teenage body heat. Emily will be using her laptop (virtually stalking Damon) as season one of _One Tree Hill_ plays. Emily is attracted to Lucas' poetic nature and puppy face and Lauren goes for bad boy but secretly soft Nathan. A Scott brother each. Perfect.

She thumbs out a text to Razor. _An hour at the V-Card dance is like a mouth of red fire ants._

"Hey, photoslave." Lauren looks up from her iPhone to find Max. He certainly cleans up well, wearing a dark satin suit that was probably literally featured during fashion week in Bryant Park. His hair is nicely styled, like always, and though Max's hair is nearly jet-black, the effort he put into getting it to look that way reminds her of Razor.

"Slave driver," Lauren says, looking him up and down. "Funny. I thought you were moving to New York to pursue photography, not Wall Street." She takes another second to look over his full, all black suit, completely with cufflinks and a tie. He's sharp as fuck and hot as hell, but Lauren treats him like she's only the least bit impressed. "Nice outfit."

Max leans in close to her and whispers, "Can we keep the part about NYC on the down low? You're the only one that knows." Lauren jerks away from him. If she's the only one he can tell about his future plans then maybe his life is faker than his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend's tan. "So…getting any good pictures?"

"Why do I feel like you don't need pictures and just dragged me here to torture me?"

"Nonsense." Max has a knack for appearing happier and more put together than he actually is. Lauren used to wear the same mask when she lived in the Royal world and nothing makes her happier than finally being out of it. "We do need the pictures."

"But you're _so_ enjoying this."

Max laughs. "I am actually."

Lauren spies Maeve across the room with a bunch of her friends who are cataloged as Royals even though no one cares to know their names. Their popularity is mostly thanks to their parent's bank accounts. The Taft queen bee is stunning in a gold knit dress, but the furious look on her face is downright ugly. Her fingers itch to touch him in some sort of explicitly flirtatious way. Lauren from sophomore year would do it just for kicks, just to see how red Maeve will turn, just because it's easy.

Instead, Lauren swallows loudly and keeps her hands to herself as she says, "Uh-oh. It looks like your girlfriend won't be too happy about that dance you promised me."

"Maeve is rarely happy about anything I do," Max says. Not knowing how to respond to that, Lauren fiddles with her hair. He's starting to show her a part of him she didn't know existed, a part she doesn't want to know exist. She doesn't want to like him. She can't like him.

"She's lucky the DJ sucks. I don't dancing to crap," Lauren says. When Max's lips turn up in a smile, Lauren lifts the camera at the perfect moment and snaps a picture of him. The flash goes off in his face, making him blinks repeatedly. Lauren shows no mercy with her candids.

"I think I'm blind."

Lauren grins. "Just a little gift from me to you."

After rubbing his eyes, Max points her to the dance floor. "Quick, get a shot of that."

Lauren laughs, seeing the gym teacher with a flashlight, flashing it between the dancing couples, making sure there's an appropriate amount of space between them. Coach Tim blows his whistle, scolding the few bold souls who are practically having sex with their clothes on and trying to pass it off as dancing. Lauren does as instructed and takes a few pictures.

"I can see the headlines now," Max says. "_Score: Sir Cockblocks-A-Lot 1, Horny Teenagers Zip_. What do you think?"

"Do you ever think of anything other than photography or the newspaper?"

"Not really."

Max stares at her in a way that makes Lauren nervous. She doesn't know where this impulse comes from, but she wants to smile back. Even stronger is the curiosity to see what would happen if they touched. This time it's not so much about Maeve's reaction, but Max's. Before Lauren can act on any of these ideas, her head makes the judgment call and she keeps her hands firm on her camera and off her editor.

"Well, I better get back to my girlfriend."

"You should."

"I'll be looking forward to seeing those pictures Monday at lunch." Max turns away and Lauren brings her attention back to the old, digital screen of the camera, wondering how these pictures are going to turn out especially with the half-ass job she's doing. "Hey Lauren?"

"What now?" When she looks up, a flash goes off in her face. Once Lauren blinks the colorful spots away, she sees Max with his own camera and a smile. "What the hell was that?"

"You got me so I got you." That's all Max says before he makes his way across the room to where Queen Maeve waits for him with a verbal lashing. She knows it isn't worth witnessing, but can't stop herself. Lauren watches Maeve pull Max's face to her and kiss him hard. Lauren smiles at how threatened Maeve is.

Her phone holds a new text from Razor and it steals her undivided attention:

_A second without you is like an eternity without sun. _

That one makes Lauren feel like such a girl with a crush. She knows it's stupid, but sometimes she feels like Razor is sharing the day with her, one text at a time, like he's there and trying to distract her from how Kaylie and Maeve are attached at the hip. He makes day-to-day life easier for her and there's nothing she wants more than for him to be here with her.

It doesn't help that Kaylie and Nicky are being their typical cute, perfect couple selves, at the center of the dance floor, under all the seizure-inducing rainbow lights. Her head is on his chest as he holds her. Sometimes Lauren wonders if Kaylie and Nicky feel what everyone else sees in them. They're so damn lucky to have found something so rare in such a messed up world. Kaylie's constant complaints make no sense. Even after everything she's been through when it comes to boys, Lauren still thinks love can transcend insecurity, judgment and fear.

After snapping a few pictures of Kaylie and her boyfriend, thinking to maybe frame it and give it to Kaylie for her upcoming birthday, Lauren texts Razor: _What's the best thing in life? _

"We were both coming to the dance. Would it have been so horrible if we came together?"

Ike Benzinger is at a school dance. Oh, she definitely needs documented proof of this. Lauren surprises Ike with a picture, capturing how he greased his hair back for the evening and he's wearing his usual army jacket and sneakers, but with a loose tie and dark slacks.

"What are you doing here?" Lauren asks.

"Sweeping you off your feet?"

"_Please_," Lauren says. "It has something to do with drugs, doesn't it?"

"You're smarter than you give yourself credit for." Ike straightens his tie, but disregards his untucked, rumbled shirt and does it with the biggest grin, so proud.

"Speaking of smarts, have you noticed Emily acting a little weird?" Lauren asks. "I mean, I know her home life isn't perfect, but whose is, right? She's been jumpy and distracted."

"Maybe she's overwhelmed with school and work and everything?"

"Or maybe it's your boyfriend that's been buzzing around her," Lauren says accusingly.

"More like avoiding," Ike says. "Rodge says she's dodging him."

"I don't blame her. She told me about the drugs. Your boy's a chronic. Emily doesn't like it. Delinquent isn't exactly her type. Tell him to leave her alone."

"What makes you think Rodge listens to anything I say?" Ike laughs. "No one listens to anything I have to say. You'd know. You _always_ gets my Starbucks order wrong."

"Whatever. You're lucky I offer to buy in the first place," Lauren says. "I'm ready to get out of here, go hang out with Em." Lauren shoves the camera into her large leather purse.

"Wait, since we're both here…wanna dance?"

"No."

"LoTa—"

"Now that deserves a _no way in hell_." Lauren spins so her blonde hair whips across her shoulder. Not just a practiced move, but perfected. "I'll see you Monday, Benz."

"One day, Lauren Tanner! One day you'll realize what a catch I am and it'll be too late! I'll be happily married and rolling in money with little Benzingers everywhere!"

"I don't even know what you're talking about and do you have to say it so loud? You are so embarrassing. Like, taking Special Ed kids on a field trip embarrassing."

Lauren waves and goes to the exit when someone stops short of bumping into her. Lauren has to look up because of the height difference, but his brown curls and is a dead giveaway. Carter Anderson strokes his fingers through his brown curls and gives her a nervous smile as he says, "Whoa, Lauren, hey."

He's so high and not even trying to hide it.

Lauren says the first thing that comes to mind. "Did your mom dress you?"

She doesn't even wait for a response from him before she starts walking away. It's a little scary how you can care so much about someone at one point in time and hate him within months. Carter's the one guy who doesn't ask her to dance tonight and even if she stayed long enough for him to, Lauren wouldn't have felt bad about saying no.

Walking down the dim hallway to the nearest restroom, Lauren passes couples making out against lockers and half-expects one to be Kaylie and Nicky, but doesn't spot them. Lauren purposefully smacks her heels against the floor and loudly says, "Seriously, what is this? An orgy free for all? Where the hell is the adult supervision?"

The couples are too wrapped up in each other to acknowledge Lauren. She walks into the girls' bathroom and is met by a mix of pot and nicotine. Repulsive. When she hears the sounds of snorting and vomiting, Lauren walks right back out. She doesn't have to go that badly. Searching for the nearest exit, Lauren checks her phone and finds two more texts from Razor.

_Best things in life are free, but you can keep 'em for the birds and bees. Give me money. ;-)_

Razor, a couch, and _Empire Records_ sounds like the perfect Valentine's Day. Hands down. Lauren feels a terrible ache and wonders why things she wants are always out of reach.

Fighting disappointment, Lauren opens the second text.

_Nah. The best thing in life is getting the right girl to smile at u at the right time. Heaven. _

Lauren replies with a _ :)_

But it's an inaccurate depiction of the expression on her face in that moment.

Lauren says goodnight to Marcus, who's guarding the door, a smart choice seeing as flocks of teen girls refused to give him breathing space when he was overseeing the dance floor. As she walks to her car, a loud, super slutty moan grabs her attention. She expects a freshman looking to climb the social ladder. When her evil gears start to turn, Lauren reaches into her bag for her camera. It's been a long time since she's had dirt this good on anyone.

Poised to snap a photo, Lauren almost drops the camera when she recognizes the boy with his tie off, top buttons of his shirt undone, hands on some girl's ass. Max Spencer. And the blonde he's with (whose face Lauren recognizes, but name remains unknown) definitely isn't Maeve.

Lauren knew that guy was too nice and too agreeable and the way he looked at her…doesn't matter. Max is a cheater just like Carter. Instincts tell her to take the picture. Ultimately, Lauren resists. What he's doing isn't right, but he hasn't done anything to her. Lauren knows better than to stir useless drama. Her priorities have shifted. She doesn't dabble in high school drama because her phone lights up with a new text from Razor and Emily is waiting.

Though Lauren is content with her decision, the darkness in her starts to grow impatient.

…

For a week now, every conversation Kaylie has had with her boyfriend revolves around Faith Giancana. It's nice to see Nicky so excited about Faith's visit, but _every conversation? _

All Nicky seems to talk about is the _amazing_ Faith Giancana, who has the best stories from running away from home and who's trying to fatten him up with cupcakes and how she's living with him! Kaylie remembers spending a considerable amount of time around Faith last summer and she can see why people want to be around her, but the way Nicky talks about her suggests she's the freaking messiah. Kaylie finds it odd and a little annoying.

A part of her thinks it's less about Faith and more about how Nicky comes to life when he talks about her. He shares the story about Faith giving tours at the Louvre when she has little to no knowledge of Near East Antiquities or something more recent like Faith setting off the smoke alarm at his house, trying to perfect one of her grandma's pie recipe. There's always a grin on his face and a shine to his eyes. Kaylie hasn't seen him like this since they were in Barcelona.

"So how was your day?" Kaylie asks while they're on the phone. She's snuggled up in her bed with her phone pinned between her cheek and shoulder, eyes on the screen of her laptop.

"Great," Nicky says. An adjective he's been using a lot more these days. "My dad was not happy about me ditching school for roller coasters and funnel cake, but it's cool because Faith took the blame and my dad lets her get away with everything. He took us to serve out our punishment at the CU Denver campus today."

"And how was it?"

"Boring. He introduced me to his colleagues and the faculty. Faith got more out of it than I did. She randomly sat in on a lecture and of course it turns out to be a sexualities class. Faith being Faith went up to the professor after class and asked her to elaborate on the sex vs. gender paralleling nature vs. nurture debate. Now Faith is considering college. She hasn't been this excited about education since the first time she quit gymnastics. Isn't that great?"

"Yeah, really great," Kaylie says distractedly. As she listens, Kaylie plays Tetris on Facebook.

"Can you picture Faith and me going to school together? I can already see her convincing me to sign up for Women Studies or Pilates 101 and me being the only guy. Can't wait."

"Nicky, do you think we could talk about something else?"

"Uh, sure," he says. Cue the long pause. "So…how was your day?"

Kaylie turns onto her stomach, bored with Tetris. "I finally got the choreography down for the Colorado Classic and the squad hasn't ripped my face off yet, which can only mean we're on the right track. It seems like everything is starting to come together."

"Cool." Nicky sounds just as unenthusiastic as she felt when he was talking.

"Nix! Crap! Where's your blow dryer? I was in the shower and I left my phone on the toilet seat lid just incase Kel calls since she's basically on suicide watch. It rang, but it was just stupid Austin texting me and I accidentally dropped my phone in the shower!"

Faith Giancana. Kaylie would know that voice anywhere.

"I don't own one. And a blow dryer would just makes it worse," Nicky replies. He drops his phone with a _thud_ and doesn't even tell Kaylie first. "Dry it, remove all this—the cover, battery, memory card—then put it in a bag of rice."

"Isn't it going to get all gross?"

"_Uncooked_ rice. It should absorb the water. Jesus, Faye, you're getting the floor all wet. Can you please go put some clothes on?"

"Um, I'm kinda freaking out here! You're lucky I remembered a towel when I ran out of the bathroom! This phone is my lifeline. What if Kelly needs me or Joey calls to tell me she's boozing it up again? I need my phone, Nicky."

"Well, hopefully it'll be fine in the morning. You need to keep it in rice overnight," Nicky explains. "I think I still have Joey's number. I'll text him, tell him what happened and to keep me updated. Then if your phone is still wrecked, we can go to AT&T tomorrow."

"Okay, text Kelly and let her know," Faith says. "She says she deletes your texts without reading them, but I raided her BlackBerry and she totally has every single one of your sappy _Kelly, pick me, choose me, love me_ texts. I'm sureshe'll get a kick out of this. What idiot drops her phone in the shower? Anyways, yeah, I'm taking your cell hostage for the night."

"Sure. Right after I finish talking to Kaylie."

"Wait…Kaylie's on the phone with you right now? She's been listening to us talk?"

"Yes?"

"Kaylie, I'm totally wearing clothes!" Faith shouts. The dark-haired girl cringes, feeling like she's just been caught eavesdropping. "I'm wearing a, um, a robe! It's a big fluffy Eskimo robe that makes me look and feel like a big, cuddly polar bear!"

"Huh?" Nicky says confusedly.

Faith laughs. "Stupid, dude, you're _so_ stupid. Anyways, have fun talking to your _girlfriend_. And remember, Kaylie Cruz, society raises us to believe men are meant to be emotionally inexpressive so it's the woman's responsibility to coax him into expressing emotion and it's her job to keep the relationship conflict-free, but that is such gendered bull—"

"Okay, Faith, every second you waste, your phone slips that much closer to death."

"Aw, crap! This is so my life," Faith grumbles. "Oh, and can you text Payson and tell her about my idiot ways? Tell her to pass it on to Austin and Conrad. I said I'd keep them all updated."

"Yeah, sure," Nicky says. A door squeals and then there's some shuffling before Nicky picks up the phone. "Sorry about that. Kaylie, you still there?"

"Still here."

"So what were we talking about?" Nicky asks.

"What did she mean Kelly is on suicide watch?"

"Not actual suicide, like she's not going to kill herself. Kelly is too good for that and she knows it. Faith is just being dramatic, which is pretty much a twenty-four/seven thing with her."

"So you've been texting her? Kelly?" Kaylie asks out of genuine curiosity. He seems so preoccupied with Faith and their sleepovers at the Russo house that he failed to mention Kelly at together. It's like staring at a rainbow and ignoring the storm.

"Yeah, even though she doesn't text back," he replies sadly. "We just…I don't know. That morning we saw Kelly, Faith just works her magic and suddenly they're friends again, but for me it isn't that easy. Apparently Kelly has a new boyfriend or something."

Kaylie sits up with intrigue, forgetting about Facebook altogether. "Who?"

"Some gymnast. Faith says he's a good guy and I trust her taste in people…most of the time. It's just weird. When you're apart, go on with your life, but don't think about them going on with theirs. Then you hear about it from someone else. Am I making any sense?"

"Yeah, I get it," Kaylie says. Immediately, she thinks of Payson. "Nicky, I need to go. Don't forget about the dance tomorrow night."

"How could I?" he asks. She can see his smile in her head and it makes her so giddy. "I'll be at your place. Six o'clock sharp."

"Goodnight, Nicky."

"Night, Princess."

Kaylie hits end and looks at the home screen of her phone. With slow, lazy movement, Kaylie clicks through her contacts and highlights Payson's number. Usually, her early morning runs with Payson set the tone for the rest of her day. Instead Kaylie has been keeping an eye on Amelia as Ronnie makes breakfast. She misses their jogs, just her and Payson and the forest. Kaylie doesn't want to apologize first, but she does miss having Payson in her life.

"Kaylie, you have to come see this!" Ronnie shouts. Though she's reluctant to get up, Kaylie does as she's asked and makes her way to her door. "Kaylie, come down here!"

She walks downstairs and finds Ronnie and AJ in the foyer, huddled around the circular table in the center. There sits a gigantic bouquet of fresh fruit. Chocolate-dipped strawberries coated in either coconut or almonds, pineapples cut into stars and flowers, sticks of stacked red grapes, apple wedged dipped in chocolate and dusted with cinnamon and banana slices smothered in a combination of white and semisweet chocolate.

"Dear Kaylie Cruz and family, I'm sorry if I was a bother the other day. It was unprofessional and won't happen ever again. Deepest apologies, Damon Young," Ronnie reads the little card.

"This thing is amazing!" AJ shouts, like a little child. Ronnie scolds him that he'll wake Amelia, but the young father ignores her. "Kaylie, I say you dump the dork and date the Damon."

AJ reaches for a strawberry, but Ronnie slaps his hand away and says, "Wait, let me tweet it!" Ronnie focuses her camera phone on the edible arrangement. "Kaylie, Damon told me about your little run-in the other day. He seemed genuinely sorry."

"Yeah, genuinely sorry he got caught," Kaylie says. Though she's willing to admit the fruit bouquet is impressive, Kaylie is on Emily's side. "He's Emily's ex. He left her the second he got famous. Now she's finally getting over him and he shows up here, sending us fruit."

"Hey, I met that kid over the summer. This Damon is Emily's Damon?" AJ asks.

"Not anymore." Kaylie squints her eyes, taking a closer look at the chocolate-coated fruit. She finds it a little strange that her brother has met Emily's first boyfriend and even Lauren's Newport boy of summer and she hasn't.

Ronnie eyes Kaylie, who's staring at a particular chocolate-dipped strawberry the size of a golf ball. "Kaylie, did Emily tell you what Damon's been doing over his hiatus?"

"I don't think she knows. Whatever rock stars do, I guess."

"It'd be incredibly unprofessional if I told you and not to mention a breach of our contract and Damon's trust. Just remember that there's always different sides to every story." Ronnie rubs her hand across Kaylie's shoulders. She starts to walk to the stairs, but then stops and grabs a chocolate-coated strawberry. "Goodnight, kids. You two have fun eating all that."

"Oh, we will."

AJ wraps an arm around the metal centerpiece and the other around Kaylie. They sit in the living room with the bouquet between them, trying different fruit while watching _Selena _on TV. She should probably work on the U.S. History essay due tomorrow, but it's so much more fun to listen to AJ mocks their Ronnie-given heritage and lament the disappearance of JLo's hotness. Though she would never tell him, hanging out with AJ is the perfect end to her night.

Though Kaylie prays that Valentine's Day will be just as perfect, all her hope evaporates when she literally bumps into Marty at dinner before the dance. Seeing Marty reminds her of the night AJ destroys his car, glass shattering and scattering all around.

"Kaylie, hi."

"Marty."

The first thing she notices is how cleaned up he is. Still as muscular as before, wearing a formal jacket over a button-up and dress pants. It being Valentine's Day, Kaylie assumes it's a date. Just the thought makes Kaylie feel ill. After everything he put their family through, Kaylie can't even look at him, staring down at her heels instead.

"I, uh, gotta go now," he says. "Have a nice night?"

"You too."

Marty makes his way past the two girls and towards the restrooms. Kaylie rushes away in her pink dress cinched at the waist with a black belt. Maeve follows, glittering in gold. Gold can easily become gaudy, but Maeve wears it well and sells it. Maybe she really is meant to model.

"What the hell was that?" Maeve asks. "And who was he? Hot for an old guy."

"Maeve, you need to cool it with checking out everyone who isn't your boyfriend." Kaylie stops when they're a good distance from the bathrooms yet not quite at their table. "That is Marty."

"Homewrecker Marty?"

"The one and only," Kaylie says. "Can we drop it?"

"If that's what you want. Consider it dropped." Maeve usually pries to the bitter end, but not when it comes to family. That's when the good friend in Maeve Benson comes out and Kaylie adores that. "So, you and the boo seem cozy. It's a decent to a good night, right?"

"That's to be determined…"

The run-in with Marty aside, so far the night has been really great. Nicky showed up on time and Ronnie, dressed up with plans to go out with her single girlfriends, insisted on taking a million pictures. Kaylie and Nicky then met Maeve and Max at a little Italian restaurant nearby. There they fell into their fab four roles, joking about growing old together, having kids at the same time, living in the same suburb and vacationing together in Spain.

Max joked about wanting at least six kids and Maeve told him to start looking for a surrogate or seek out adoption agencies because there's no way she's going to put her body through the trauma. Laughing and interjecting with her comments, Kaylie holds Nicky's hand beneath the table and he mostly stays quiet, which is normal for him.

When the girls return to their table, their boyfriends are laughing together. It's unbelievable how civil they are, seeing as they were ready to kill each other just last weekend. Then again, that's exactly what Kaylie and Nicky are doing (and do often) so she has no place to judge.

Nicky takes one look at Kaylie and asks, "What's wrong?"

It touches her that Nicky can pick up on how upset she is, but that isn't something Kaylie wants to talk about right now in front of Maeve and Max. "It's nothing."

"We ran into the guy who broke up her family. No big," Maeve says offhandedly. "So, the food was lovely, wasn't it? Max and I ate here for our one-year anniversary. So embarrassing. Neither of us could drive and so my mom brought us and you know how she can be."

"Wait," Nicky interrupts the little anecdote. "Marty's here?"

"Forget it." Kaylie waves it off. "Maeve, what happened to dropping it?"

"I answered his question and now it's dropped." Maeve gives the boys a look, warning them not to bring up Marty for the rest of the night. "So, what have you boys been talking about?"

"Faith Giancana being back in our corner of the universe," Max answers. Even he looks excited to have her here even if Maeve won't allow him to see her without supervision. Kaylie remembers that conversation and she hates how much it makes her second-guess everything.

"_I don't know her and I certainly don't trust her around my boyfriend and you shouldn't trust her around yours," Maeve had said, having her own unique opinion on Faith Giancana. _

"_They're just friends," Kaylie argued. "Childhood friends." _

"_So were Nicky and Kelly Parker if I remember correctly," Maeve murmured under her breath. _

"_What's that supposed to mean?" _

"_Nothing. Much like what's left of their fucked up relationship." _

Kaylie feels Nicky's hand slide under hers and it snaps her out of the memory. Across the table, Max laughs to himself. "Aw, man. I always knew I liked Faith ever since that summer in Manhattan. That's when we got our first fake IDs and saw our first Burlesque show. Remember, Nicky? We were so convinced _she_ was a she, but, oh, how wrong we were."

"We were like fifteen. It makes no sense how we even got past the doors," Nicky reminisces. "When we were kids Max always gave me a hard time about having two girl best friends and then you were begging to tag along."

"Duh, it was New York City," Max says. "I got so many good pictures out of that trip."

"I've noticed. They're framed all over your room," Maeve adds. "Clue me in about Nicky's other, _other_ girlfriend again?"

"She's more like a sister," Nicky says, a flawless deflection, like he's used to the accusation. "My dad's been home more since Faith moved in than in the last few years. While I'm in my room doing homework, dad and Faith are always cooking Italian food together. It's kinda nice how the house doesn't feel as empty anymore."

Kaylie feels the same way about AJ and Amelia being in town.

"Nicky, tell me Faith convinced Uncle Don to let two do the Amsterdam trip."

"Still in the negotiation stage, but we're getting there. It won't be long until he gives in. Faith and I talked it over when we were waiting in lines for roller coasters, playing the 'instead of a grad party' angle. Not that I'd want one. But yeah, it's pretty much a done deal."

Max shakes his head, envious. "You need to take one of my cameras, but don't let Faith touch it. Get me some shots of the canals. I hear Amsterdam has gorgeous canals."

Maeve laughs. "Canals? What? Is that code for nude beaches and brothels?"

"Knowing Faith Giancana? Exactly," Max says. "But seriously, they have _beautiful_ canals that I could stare at for hours and all the old houses that line the canals are like something out of a Grimm fairytale, which you should love since foreign architecture is what you're into."

"Honestly, Kayliekins, do you know anyone else besides my boyfriend who'd call a ditch with water in it beautiful?" Maeve curls her arm around Max's neck and plays with the tips of his hair. "You think he'd have higher standards, dating me and all."

Max slides his arm around Maeve's waist and kisses her neck until she squeals. Nicky grows uncomfortable when he feels Kaylie's eyes on him.

"Wait," Kaylie says, voice shaking a bit. "What Amsterdam trip?"

Silence floods the table. Max tries to ignore it and kiss his girlfriend again, but Maeve's arm drops, along with her expression. Already expecting a fight, Maeve looks between Nicky who's nervously taking a sip of his water and Kaylie who has her eyes on him, not even blinking.

"This summer, after graduation, Faith and I want to 'backpack' through Europe," Nicky explains. "We're spending a couple days in Amsterdam, a couple days in Paris and then finally to Barcelona for the tail end of the summer. Probably New York after that for the beginning of August and depending on what school I decide on, I might be back here or not. I was meaning to tell you, but I didn't want to say anything until things were official and they aren't. The only reason Max knows is because he was supposed to come with us."

"But I'm wait listed for this summer internship so I guess I'll just be living vicariously through Nicky," Max says. They aren't that close, but Max is always willing to jump in to help dig a brother out of a hole, an admirable quality.

"Oh, cool." Finally tearing her eyes away from him, Kaylie looks down at her salad and picks her fork back up, stabbing at the lettuce. No one speaks so when Kaylie's fork scratches the ceramic plate it's awkwardly noisy. Nicky squeezes her hand, but she won't squeeze back.

Nicky frowns. "You're upset."

"No, I just wish I knew."

"Well, you know now?" Nicky says tentatively.

"Okay, super couple, I think it's time to look at the desert menu," Max says. He loudly fumbles with the laminated menu, providing them with a much-needed distraction.

Maeve also tries to help move the conversation along. "I don't eat dessert. You know that."

"Yeah, like you don't eat appetizers and you barely eat entrées," Max says. Maeve straightens in her seat and scoots away so there's a big space separating them. Max holds her stare as long as he possibly can, but eventually gives in. "Well, I guess you're just going to have to watch the rest of us."

"Actually, I don't have much of an appetite anymore." Kaylie sets down her fork and it hits the plate louder than she anticipated, sounding like she's about to throw a tantrum.

"Kaylie." Nicky sighs.

"Should we get the check and head to the dance then?" Max asks. Tossing the menu aside, he gives up on the idea of dessert. It's obvious that everyone wants to leave as soon as possible.

"Sounds great," Kaylie says. "I'm going to wait out front and get some air."

"Great idea. I'll come with!" Maeve beats Nicky to the punch. She grabs a hold of her clutch that matches her dress and the two run off, leaving the boys to take care of the bill. Nicky starts yelling at Max about bringing up Amsterdam and Max defensively says he was just trying to make small talk and Kaylie stops listening once they reach the front.

Standing out in front of the restaurant, Kaylie takes deep breaths, filling her lungs with the cold night air. She has to remind herself to breathe before she ceases to do it entirely. Instead of trying to talk her through it, Maeve just wraps Kaylie up in a hug. She knew exactly what Kaylie needed without her even having to ask.

They don't talk. Maeve doesn't try to help her work through things and Kaylie doesn't try to explain the twisted, messed up way she feels. They just stay like that, in a comfortable silence until the boys join them. Both Max and Nicky are bumbling and awkward and the resemblance has never been stronger. Nicky and Kaylie get into his SUV while Maeve and Max take her convertible, planning to meet at the school.

"So how long have you been planning this?" Kaylie asks, breaking the silence. Obviously Nicky has been meaning to say something for the longest time, but didn't know how or what.

"Years now? We always said we wanted to get out of the States, see what else is out there once the girls were satisfied with their gold medal counts. Um, Faith and I only started seriously planning it last summer and earlier this week."

_Girls_. As in Kelly was apart of their plan, but now isn't. It scares Kaylie how she picks up on little details like that and how it nags at her.

"And you didn't think to mention it before? Just the fact that you were planning this?" Kaylie's so angry and she doesn't understand it completely, but she needs to get it out. "You didn't stop to wonder how I'd feel about it?"

"Yes, I thought of you, but I didn't think you'd make a big deal about it," Nicky says. "It's just a summer. Plus, it's not like you'd be able to come along. Your mom and dad would never let you leave the country with Faith and me. Your parents actually care about you."

It makes her even angrier when he pulls the parents card. Is it her fault she has parents who try and he doesn't? Nicky constantly reminds her and Kaylie is sick of it.

Crossing her arms and jutting her chin, Kaylie pouts. "All I'm saying is it would have been nice if you told me you already made plans for the summer. And here I thought we could spend the summer together, just you and me, maybe in Barcelona before you go off to school in the fall. I guess I was wrong to assume. Sorry. It won't happen again."

By Nicky's expression, he's trying to come up with something to say that will fix everything, but he just doesn't know what that is. Kaylie doesn't know if that's possible right now.

"Well," Nicky tries, "we can still meet up in Spain towards the end of the summer?"

"No. Just go off on your epic Europtrip with Faith. It's fine."

"What the problem, Kaylie?" Nicky asks. "Is this the whole Faith thing again? I told you—"

"No, this isn't about Faith! It's about everything! I feel like you hate your life right now and you can't wait to get to your big, exciting future and…and it scares me that I might not be apart of it," Kaylie says, her voice cracking with honesty. Before she can continue, Nicky pulls the car over to the side of the road and shuts off the engine. "Nicky, what are you doing?"

Nicky gets out and takes the keys with him. Kaylie sits back and watches as her boyfriend rounds the front of the SUV, facing out into the dark. The nearby streetlights are ineffective, but every time a car zooms down the road, Kaylie sees Nicky just standing there. She gets out, ignoring her cute heels dragging through the dirt and goes to stand next to him. Her heart thumps in her chest, nervous as to how he's going to react to her angry truths.

"You're right," Nicky says. "About one thing at least. I do hate my life." Kaylie swallows a wince. "Maybe hate is too strong a word, but like I was telling… I, um, I feel stuck. I'm tired of doing the same thing everyday. I need something different. I need to feel like I'm actually living my life, but that's all on me. I don't know what it is or why I feel it. I don't know what my future looks like, but of course I want you to be apart of it."

"So where do you see us a year from now?"

"I see you finishing up your last year of high school and I'll be going to university," Nicky says. The future is a vague canvas and science-driven Nicky Russo can only offer cold, concrete fact. At this point, she should have expected that and nothing more.

"And do you see us together?"

"We won't know until we get there."

"God, you really are the worst boyfriend ever!" Kaylie groans, flinging her hands up in the air. "You're supposed to say, 'yes, Kaylie, a year from now we're together and happy and laughing about that Valentine's Day where you even questioned us.' That was the right answer."

"Yeah, but that'd be a lie and I know you prefer the truth," Nicky says. At this point, she hates withheld truths even more. "Kaylie, I don't know what's going to happen in the future and I know it's coming at us fast, but I need to take it one day at a time. That's the only way I know how. We need to take things slow."

Kaylie grinds her teeth, frustrated. "We've been taking things slow."

He tilts his head in that way he knows she thinks is one of his most adorable quirks. "Slow and steady wins the race…?" She has nothing to say to that and so she doesn't. "Kaylie, you're my first girlfriend _ever_. I know I space sometimes and I'm not the world's greatest boyfriend, but you gotta know I'm trying. Trust me. We're going to be okay."

Nicky tugs her closer, begging to hit the reset button like they do every other day. Kaylie decides to break the cycle and refuses to fall into his arms and ignore the conversation they just had. Instead, Kaylie says, "We should probably get to the dance."

Nicky opens her door and Kaylie gets in with a cold, "Thanks." They drive the rest of the way in silence. When they arrive, Kaylie puts on a smile, not wanting anyone to ask questions. Nicky does the same to the best of his ability. When they're in the middle of the dance floor, Kaylie holds on tight, but now she's starting to question what she's even holding on to.

…

Ike and Rodge's so-called "business" is more than disorganized. It's disastrous.

Emily tries to do things the way Ike and Rodge tell her to, but then ends up reinventing the entire system with codenames she came up with herself. More and more text messages pour in and Emily transfers the orders into a ledger she then gives to Ike. He takes a trip to their supplier and comes back with thousands of dollars in illegal drugs.

There are three prime pick-up spots—the big oak tree across from the football field, the old abandoned lockers behind the band room (most notably 303) and the alley behind the Pizza Shack, near the dumpster. At some point during the day, customers slip Emily cash and in return they'll get a text, giving them a specific time and place where they'll find their order in a Pizza Shack brown paper bag.

The days that lead to the Valentine's Day dance is when the drug phone practically explodes. Some of the biggest dealers in school are going to be setting up shop in the boys' bathroom. Emily thinks it's a bad idea to be walking around school with a backpack full of drugs and making deals on the fly, but Ike assures her that he's done it a million times.

Before English class starts, Kaylie shows off her cute Valentine's Day text messages from Nicky. One in particular is a picture of Nicky using his hands to form a heart. It's horribly blurry and the side of someone's thumb obscures a corner of the shot. After catching up with Payson (trying to get her to talk to Kaylie with no luck), Emily's pretty sure Faith is the photographer, but isn't about to point this out. Kaylie can't stop smiling and it's nice to see, especially after how much time she spends worrying about their relationship.

"Lo, you might as well enjoy yourself since you're being forced to go to the dance," Kaylie says. "Just make the most of it."

"What is there to enjoy?" Lauren's voice fills the entire room and even turns a few heads. "It's a stupid high school dance. Valentine's Day doesn't even mean anything. It's dumb."

"I couldn't agree more," Emily says.

She's about to launch into a spiel about the world's weird obsession with love when Rodge walks in. Emily freezes up while Kaylie goes on about how she thinks candy hearts are cute and Lauren argues that they taste like chalk. Emily prays Rodge will just ignore her, but that fails to come true in an epic way when he squats next to her desk.

"Hey."

"Hi," she says, like she hasn't been in his apartment and doesn't know his dad is a drunk and his mom is a runaway. Lauren and Kaylie grow quiet, an audience to their freak show.

"I scared you the other day, didn't I?" he asks. "With the drugs."

Emily tries her best to ignore him and it only highlights Lauren and Kaylie's faces—surprise that quickly transitions into concern.

"Can you say that any louder?" Emily whisper-hisses.

Rodge fixes that same red beanie over his hair and nods to the door. "Let's get out of here."

"Class starts in like two minutes."

Instead of retreating in defeat, Rodge stays squatted there and stares her down as if he can compel her to do as he asks. All Emily can think for the few seconds of eye contact is that his eyes aren't like Damon's baby blues, not at all. He stays there until the bell rings and everyone takes their seats. Emily expects him to walk out, not even bother to stay for class, but he surprises her and goes to an empty desk at the back.

Lauren leans in close and loudly asks, "What the hell was that?"

Emily replies honestly. "I have no idea."

"Is it my imagination or is there an abundance of pinks and reds in the room today?" Marcus asks. All around the room girls show off their flowers and boxes of chocolate (that they'll only eat in secret) and even wearing the colors—matching with their significant others. "In honor of the day, I thought we could revisit an old friend of ours, Shakespeare. Let's talk about love."

Great. Emily's favorite class and they're dedicating the period to a holiday that isn't even a holiday. Maybe ditching with the delinquent boy would have been the better choice. Living with her decision, Emily slouches as Marcus scrawls "Shakespeare" across the board and distributes a stack of copy paper.

"What makes Shakespeare romantic?"

"He wrote romances," Rodge says. "That was kind of his genre."

"Thank you, Rodge, but try to raise your hand next time." Marcus walks around the side of his desk and carefully moves aside a plate of red velvet cupcakes with heart-shaped sprinkles so he can sit on the edge like always. "I meant in regards to our modern interpretation of romance and what we consider romantic. After all, that's what keeps Romeo and Juliet relevant, right? Any thoughts on this?"

"It just _is_," Kaylie pipes up. She stops herself to raise her hand and Marcus gives her a nod. "That's why movies are always using and reusing their same basic storyline. The first time Romeo ever sees Juliet he forgets the other girl he was just in love with because he felt so strongly about her. He was willing to give up everything he had for everything he could have with her. That _is _romantic."

A laugh comes from the front of the room and it's Alison. "Kaylie Cruz actually read Romeo and Juliet?" Kaylie glares, but the attention only excites Alison. "But can we really call it a successfully romance? I don't know if you actually got to the end, Kaylie, but they both die."

"Dude, spoiler alert!" someone says from the back.

"Bite me," Alison shoots back. "He thought she was dead, drank some poison and died. Then she stabbed herself and died. I personally wouldn't consider that romantic. Just retarded."

"Right, Ali, you'd know, considering you only read the end and the Wikipedia page," Kaylie responds. Hearing Kaylie's angry voice wakes Lauren who was trying to teach herself to sleep with her eyes open.

"Ladies," Marcus says, hoping to not lose control of his class like he so often does.

Emily raises her hand. "Kaylie has a point. Teenagers, love at first sight, the balcony scene, doing whatever it takes to be together and ultimately using death to prove it. I think we put that up on a pedestal, unrealistic but nice to think about." Her expression darkens. "We like to think of it as romantic because we only get to see the relationship just starting out. We don't see all the fighting and the boredom, life and other people interfering, all the stuff that happens when you've been with someone for longer than a few days."

"Past the honeymoon period," Kaylie murmurs, thinking of something else entirely.

Lauren's hand shoots up and Marcus calls on her. From his reaction, he really didn't expect all of this to come out of his opening question. "I think Romeo was a total jerk. _Hello_. He was obsessed with that Rose chick one second and all up on Juliet the next? What's romantic about a guy being a dog?"

Rodge jumps in and actually raises his hand this time. "It pains me to, but I might have to agree with Lauren Tanner. Romeo was fickle, which might be the most realistic part. I don't think Shakespeare thought of it as romantic. I mean, it's a tragedy. If it were meant to be romantic then they would have lived happily ever after, which they didn't because it wasn't a love story. The only take home message I ever got is to not go online and steal Romeo and Juliet quotes to try to get into girls' pants unless they're really stupid."

"Alright then," Marcus says once a contemplative silence falls over the class. "Whether Shakespeare meant for his work to be romantic or not, the general public considers it to be, but if Romeo and Juliet is a little too dark for some of you, the paper in front of you is considered by some to be Shakespeare at his most romantic—Sonnet 116. This is what you want to be quoting to get the girl. Who's up for a little analyzing and discussion?"

Emily pulls the crisp sheet of paper into her hands and reads to herself.

_Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
>Admit impediments, love is not love<br>Which alters when it alteration finds,  
>Or bends with the remover to remove.<br>O no, it is an ever-fixed mark  
>That looks on tempests and is never shaken;<br>It is the star to every wand'ring bark,  
>Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.<br>Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
>Within his bending sickle's compass come,<br>Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
>But bears it out even to the edge of doom:<br>If this be error and upon me proved,  
>I never writ, nor no man ever loved.<em>

There's silence in the room, probably because most failed to comprehend it. The words are easy enough to understand and define, but as a whole, it's like trying to put together a thousand-word puzzle. The thing about puzzles is they only get completed if you really want to complete them. Marcus then takes them through it line by line. Turns out, it's quite beautiful.

It's about love. It's about a love that endures even the most brutal change, including infidelity. It's a love that can't be erased by time, but lasts until the last of breaths. It ends cheekily and firmly, Shakespeare saying that if he can be proven wrong, proven that even a single word in the sonnet is a lie then he's certain no man has ever truly loved. Now _that_ is romantic.

The bell sounds and Marcus quickly jots down their next assignment on the board. He spins to face the class and says, "Closing remarks. Everyone, have a good weekend, read something, stay safe and if you're attending the dance I will see you tonight, considering I got stuck with chaperone duty. Great class today, guys! Learn something this weekend!"

As the three leave class, Lauren says, "Tell me Shakespeare got laid and often."

"He was married at eighteen to Anne Hathaway," Emily says. "Really, his wife's name was Anne Hathaway."

Kaylie hums. "Do you think Princess Diaries Anne Hathaway is named after Shakespeare's Anne Hathaway?"

"Do you think Princess Diaries Anne Hathaway's real name is Anne Hathaway?" Emily asks.

Lauren pulls out her iPhone, intending to check IMDB. As they continue to walk together, Emily can't help, but notice all the ridiculousness in the halls. One girl in particular totes around a giant white teddy bear. How is that remotely economically efficient?

"Okay, even I admit that sonnet was beautiful," Emily says, "but Valentine's Day is ridiculous. Why is it that everyone thinks you can only have meaningful, lasting relationships with someone who you also make out with? I just think, yeah, if you need a whole day to remember to appreciate your boyfriend or girlfriend then something isn't quite right there."

"Em, stop. Look what you're doing to Kaylie's face," Lauren says, playfully grabbing Kaylie's chin and squeezing her cheek. "You're throwing imaginary darts at the imaginary cartoon hearts floating all around her."

Feeling slightly guilty, Emily frowns. "Honeymoon period, Kay?"

"I was hoping I didn't think that out loud." Pushing Lauren off her, Kaylie winces and rubs her cheeks. "Just something Kelly Parker said to me last summer, but whatever. You can have your opinion and that's fine, but it's Valentine's Day and I'm going to celebrate it how it's meant to be celebrated."

"Bye-bye V-Card," Lauren teases.

"And I'm not against you celebrating," Emily assures her. "But you won't catch me letting all of this red and pink, balloons and bears thing get to me."

"Jesus. Relax, it'll be over tomorrow," Rodge says, coming up behind them. "Aren't girls supposed to be nicer and heart-shaped eyed on Valentine's Day?"

"Girls with a Valentine that is," Alison says as she breezes past them. "Em is shit out of luck."

Lauren is ready to jump the curly-haired blonde, but Kaylie holds her back. Once Alison is out of reach, Lauren finds a new target. She gives Rodge a look that says _back off_ and after a nod goodbye to Emily, he does. Emily eyes that red beanie as it disappears into the crowd.

"If I knew he was going to keep talking to me, I would have stopped it before it started," Emily confesses.

"Em, it's just schoolyard flirting," Lauren teases.

"Unasked for," Emily says. "Rodge is a good guy, I can tell, but…"

"Beanie Boy?" Lauren says. "I was talking about Alison metaphorically pulling your pigtails."

"What I want to know is what Beanie Boy meant when he said _drugs_," Kaylie says. Of course she's the one to not let something like that slide. "Em, care to explain?"

She's been keeping it to herself, not wanting Lauren to go into guard dog mode. In truth, Emily actually likes Rodge, thinks he's intelligent and intriguing. It's just his lifestyle that's drowning him. Emily eventually gives in and explains to them what happened the other day. She links her arm with Lauren, seeing her flinch at _cocaine_.

"Emily, I don't like this," Kaylie says, playing mother hen in Payson's absence.

"Forget the coke whore," Lauren says. "I'm your Valentine and your mine."

"Aw," Kaylie coos at them. Lauren wraps her arms around Emily and makes kissing sounds with her glossed lips. Though the taller girl tries to pry her blonde friend off of her, Emily can't help but feel loved. Fuck Valentine's Day. When is Best Friends Forever Day?

Emily's irritation towards all the Valentine's Day nonsense only grows throughout the day. By the end, she can't wait to get home. She plans a date with Lauren for later tonight, where they watch TV and talk shit about boys and most importantly, Emily can get away from her apartment. For now, she intends to go home and relax.

When Emily gets home, she finds a beautiful bouquet of white roses on their doorstep. It makes her queasy, thinking Bruce bought them for Chloe like some pretty flowers (that he probably bought with their grocery money) will make everything better. When Emily investigates, it frightens her to find out the roses are for her and they're from Damon.

What does he think he's doing? No. He can't just suddenly surface and send her flowers on Valentine's Day, thinking things will go back to how they used to be between them. Bruce wouldn't get away with that and Damon can't either.

As Emily storms into her apartment, the flowers in her arms, she texts Jody for his number. No one is home and Emily paces through the living room while waiting for Jody's reply. It takes a good twenty minutes, but Jody comes through for her. Later that night, Emily punches Damon's number into her phone and hits send.

She hates talking to people on the phone. She hates it. The only thing she hates more is when she has to be the caller, taking the initiative and seeking someone out. Her heart starts to beat faster and something twists in her gut. Suddenly the ringing stops and there's breathing from the other end, but no greeting.

"Damon." Her voice comes out shakier than she'd like and Emily can't decipher whether it's because she's so afraid or so angry. "Damon, I know it's you. Jody gave me your number. Sending me flowers after disappearing for months? That isn't cool. You can't do that to me."

Still, he doesn't say anything.

"Fine. If you don't want to say anything then I guess I'll just hang up."

"Emily…"

Her name rolling off his tongue, hearing it right in her ear, it does something to her. It reminds her of why she turned into a sobbing mess when his manager broke up with her on his behalf. She wants to end the call, throw out the flowers and forget all about this. She hates that the one thing she could possibly want more is to hear him say it again.

"Don't hang up," Damon begs. "Please."

She couldn't hang up on him even if she tried. There's shuffling and then he does the one thing that makes her even angrier yet reminds her why she fell for this guy in the first place. The bastard uses his freaking angelic voice and he sings a cappella.

_I know rocks turn to sand__  
><em>_And hearts can change hands__  
><em>_And you're not to blame__  
><em>_When the sky fills with rain__  
><em>_But if we stay or walk away__  
><em>_There's one thing that's true__  
><em>_I still love you_

An Alexz Johnson cover. The gold-throated jerk!

Well, two can play at that game. Emily puts her phone on speaker and grabs her iPod, ripping the earphones out. Thank you, Conrad Cooper, for the country mixtape. It's about to come in handy. Emily knows the perfect song. She searches through the list and presses play.

_All this time I was wasting  
>hoping you would come around<br>I've been giving out chances every time  
>And all you do is let me down<br>And its taken me this long  
>Baby but I figured you out<br>And you're thinking we'll be fine again  
>But not this time around<em>

_You don't have to call – anymore  
>I won't pick up the phone<br>This is the last – straw  
>Don't wanna to hurt anymore<br>And you can tell me that you're sorry  
>But I don't believe you baby<br>Like I did – before  
>You're not sorry.<br>Oh-h-h no. No. No._

Emily hits stop. She figures he got the message.

"Goodbye, Damon."

"Emily, I'm in Denver…"

She already has tears filling her eyes. With her finger pressed hard against the red button of her keypad, she purposefully drops the call without saying any more or hearing any more. He can't be in Colorado. She's worked so hard to move on and it's taken so long for her to stop thinking about him. She called to tell him off and now…it's too much.

With tears sliding down her cheeks, Emily grabs her phone again and dials. She takes deep breaths through her nose to keep from sobbing and completely losing grips on everything. When the ringing stops, she's met with Lauren's boisterous voice. "Oh, my God! Em, I just got out of the V-Catastrophe dance. You won't believe who I just caught making out with a girl who isn't his owner!"

"Lo." Her voice cracks and more tears fall.

Lauren grows solemn. "Who did this to you? They are dead when I find them."

"I—I got a call a—and…"

"Where are you?"

"Home."

"I'm on my way."

"No." Emily loudly sniffles. "I'll meet you at your house. _You_ are not going to drive through Laguna _at night_."

"Em, you're my Valentine. I'll be there in ten."

…

Of course Austin Tucker isn't going to get Payson a dozen extravagant roses as a gift for Valentine's Day. He gives her just one and it's made out of duct tape.

"I love how you carry your flower everywhere you go."

"I don't carry it everywhere. I just forgot to take it out of my bag," Payson says in an adorably defensive way. "And I still don't believe you made this." Payson slides back the zipper of her half-opened gym bag and pulls out the flower, twirling it, inspecting the plastic red petals.

Austin stands in front of her with a proud smile. "You bet I made it myself. My sister went through a brief arts and crafts phase. It drove her insane that I was better at it than she was."

"Austin Tucker excels at arts and crafts? I learn something new about you everyday."

"You shouldn't be surprised," he says. "I'm good with my hands."

Payson shakes her head at his remark. Before, when they first became _a thing_, she would turn all flustered, like a deer caught in the headlights every time he said something remotely flirty. Now, after the time that's passed, Payson is comfortable enough around him and the things he says, she just refuses to acknowledge it for what it is, which makes Austin smile wider.

"Are you sure I can't take you out to dinner and a movie or something?" Austin asks. "And before you say it, I know what you're thinking. Valentine's Day weekend, cliché and cheesy, but it's the best I can do on short notice. Then afterwards we can even stop by one of those gift shops that are like the cliché cheese capitals of the world and buy those stuffed animals with the magnetic noses so they kiss when you put them near each other."

To spare her from having to hear any more, Payson does a quick look around before rising up on the tips of her toes to kiss him. Austin brings a hand to her cheek as he kisses her, his warm hand against her warm cheek on a cold day. Such bold impulse and right outside the Rock too. It doesn't last long, especially with the rising risk of being spotted, but it doesn't matter because they pull away with matching smiles.

"How forward of you, Keeler," Austin says. "You could at least buy me dinner first."

"As great as that sounds, I already have a date," Payson says. "My dad is taking my mom out for the night, dinner and the ballet. Meanwhile, I will be home with Becca, Faith and hopefully Kelly. Girls night."

"Sounds fun," Austin says. "Are you going to paint Kelly Parker's toenails?"

"Knowing Faith? She'll probably want me to hold Kelly down as she sprinkles holy water on her, trying to perform her own homemade exorcism."

"Did Faith tell you we went out for ice cream the other night?" he asks. Payson nods. "_Damn_. For someone so skinny she can _eat_ competitive eating Scooby and Shaggy style. Even Conrad was jealous and we're all convinced Conrad has a tapeworm."

"She's not as skinny as she was when we first met her, but she still looks great," Payson says. "If only we could all be as lucky."

"Hey," he says, catching her hand. "You're beautiful. Fact."

A goofy, ecstatic smile makes its way across her face. "You really think so?"

Austin leans in close and quick to kiss her cheek. The moment his lips touch her skin, Sasha steps out of his metal mobile home across the way. He watches the two, Payson's smile and Austin's puckered lips, and the head coach quietly back up into his tin can of a home. The shock and confusion on his face can't mean good things for his gymnasts.

Oblivious, happy Payson loves it when Austin does that, a quick peck on the cheek like they're little children chasing each other on the playground. It makes her think and feel the childhood she never really had—and by choice.

"Chicken," she chides.

Austin chuckles and fixes his leather sleeve down the length of his arm. "Just careful even though I wish we didn't have to be. So, next year then?"

"Maybe."

"I'll take a maybe." Austin turns her hand in his, lacing their fingers.

"Maybe we should be more careful," Payson suggests. "Before my sister sees _again_."

"It's worth the twenty bucks I paid her last time." Austin winks before looking across the way and sliding his hand away from hers. "Speaking of the miniature KP-in-training."

"Don't jinks it," Payson warns. "One Kelly Parker is enough."

Austin shoves himself up to sit on the trunk of his sports car and Payson remains on the ground, her spine pressed to the left break light as they watch Becca skip out of the Rock. She's been in a fantastic mood for the last few days ever since Conrad gave her a fresh, bright red rose on Valentine's Day. He called her his "#1 fan" when he gave it to her and it seems to have paved over the hurt of learning he enlisted.

Becca stops in front of Payson and Austin, lifting a brow at the duct tape rose. "Cute fake flower. Did you buy it off of a street vender or something?"

"Becca, cut it out," Payson says.

"If that street vender's name is Austin Tucker and he made it with his own two hands then yes." Just to annoy her, Austin adds, "Keeler the Third."

"You're so immature," Becca says with the flip of her hair.

"I hate to break it to you, munchkin, but this immature street vender," Austin points to himself, "is Conrad Cooper's date tonight. We'll probably have a lovely Chinese takeout dinner and few hundred romantic rounds of video games. If I'm lucky he'll let me help him memorize his Solider Handbook or, oh, maybe he'll let me buzz his hair! Anything is possible."

"Okay, both of you need to cut it out. Mom at ten o'clock," Payson says, sliding her duct tape rose into her gym bag and pulling the zipper shut.

"I didn't mind flaunting the flower Conrad gave me," Becca says proudly. "I don't have anything to hide."

"You don't have anything to lose either," her sister says. Payson, on the other hand, has everything to lose. Faith already told her that her dad was asking about Austin and though she loves her "Uncle Mark" Faith played dumb for her Pace.

After parting ways with Austin, the Keeler girls head home for the day. Kim talks about how she still has a million things to do before her date tonight and Payson tells Supermom to take off her cape for the night, assuring her it'll still be there tomorrow.

Once they get home, Payson and Becca clean up the house and get some homework done before the doorbell rings. The moment the front door is open, Faith practically throws her entire bodyweight into Payson in what's supposed to be a hug. Payson almost stumbles, but manages to hold her ground and hugs her back. It never gets old.

From over Faith's shoulder, Payson sees Kelly and it really does surprise her. There's no redness to her eyes, no dark bags, but no smile either. She obviously doesn't want to be here. Whatever Faith used to blackmail Kelly must be really good.

"Keelers, I'm home!" Faith shouts.

"And I'm…here and of my own free will. At least, that's what it says in the script Faith made me memorize for tonight," Kelly says. From her furrowed brows and crossed arms, she's clearly disturbed by the sight of Faith and Payson, still hugging and swaying from side to side.

"Kelly," Payson says. "It's nice to see you…sober."

The Denver gymnast gives Payson a nod, drops her bag and goes over to sit with the Becca on the couch. She's in navy blue Denver Elite sweatpants and a baggy off the shoulder sweater. Her coffee brown hair is up in a careless ponytail and she didn't even put any makeup on. Kelly is the least bit thrilled, but she isn't intoxicated either and that's a start.

Kelly turns her attention to the younger teen next to her. "Hot date tonight, Becks?"

"If that's what you want to call hanging out with you three…that is if Payson doesn't makes me spend the rest of the night in my room. Austin Tucker stole my Valentine."

"Not surprising. At. All. I so called dibs on Payson last summer and Austin comes to camp and pulls a robbery." Faith practically jumps on Kelly, halfway sitting on her lap, with arms around the brunette. "It's so nice to be back, especially being reunited with my Kelly jelly belly."

"Don't call me that," Kelly snaps. She presses her palm to the line of Faith's jaw and tries to push her away, but the former gymnast refuses to budge. "Faith, don't call me that _ever_."

"Payson, Kelly's really, really, really, really, _really_ happy to see me," Faith says, rubbing her cheek against Kelly the way only a cat or Faith Giancana would. "Can't you tell?"

"Absolutely." Payson sniggers in agreement.

"Faith, put it on ice," Kelly hisses.

"H'okay. On to more interesting business, Pace, have you made up with Kaylie Cruz yet?" Faith asks, finally getting bored with torturing Kelly via cuddling. Faith scoots over so she nicely fits between Kelly and Becca, resting her head on the shoulder of the younger blonde. "That girl totally hates me, by the way. Nicky straight up told me she does."

"You just keep racking up people who hate you, don't you?" Payson teases in an attempt to avoid talking about Kaylie.

Faith shrugs. "It's a gift, I guess."

"Wait," Becca interjects. "Pay, you're fighting with Kaylie? You never fight with Kaylie."

"People get into arguments. That's all," Payson says. The anger has faded, but she doesn't think she has anything to apologize for. This one is up to Kaylie to squash, but apparently she's too busy to bother. "I wouldn't say I'm _fighting_ with Kaylie. We just aren't talking."

Faith's deep blue eyes hone in on Kelly. "She's fighting with Kaylie for you, you know. Appreciate, bitch."

"Why would you do that?" Kelly asks. Clearly, by her expression and monotone voice, Kelly doesn't think she's worth it and there are few things more heartbreaking than that.

"Because we're going to the Olympics together," Payson says. "You and me, Kelly. And it's becoming more and more apparent that image counts for something in gymnastics and those stupid pictures could hurt you if they reached the public. We could have gotten them down sooner if Kaylie said something, but she just let it happen. She's upset because she thinks I'm choosing sides, but letting someone exploit your mistake? You don't deserve that."

"And because Payson loves you, Kel," Faith says. "That's most important."

"Did you not see me at Worlds?" Kelly only addresses Payson, demanding honesty, no sugarcoated pity. Everyone else disappears for a second as they wait on Payson's answer.

She takes a moment to construct the most honest, accurate answer she can. "You had a good run at the start, when we competed as a team. You killed it on bars. I don't think we would have taken team gold if you didn't. But the individual circuit…" Payson lets her voice grow softer towards the end. "What happened in between?"

"Don't worry about it," Kelly says. The tightness of her words, how she refuses to breathe, it's obvious _something_ happened. It's also obvious it's something Kelly would rather keep hidden. "It won't happen again."

"Good," Payson says, "because I'm going to need someone with me when I shut out Ivanka and Genji and I'd rather it be you than, I don't know, Trisha Skilken."

"Oh, the horror," Kelly says flatly even though she really does mean it. That'd be a nightmare. "Alright. Me and you, Keeler, 2012, gold and silver respectively."

Payson gives her a smile. "Yeah, we'll see who'll be getting what."

Kelly gives her a marginal smile and that confirms that the fight with Kaylie was worth it. Payson knows that it won't last forever, that her friendship with Kaylie is ultimately greater than the argument they had at Lauren's party. A tiff with Kaylie is a small sacrifice for lighting that hopeful little glint in Kelly's dark eyes. She just needs to know she has people who have her back, which Payson does without question.

Mark comes trotting down the stairs and Payson rarely sees him so dress up with a clean, fitted gray suit, his coat matching his pants. His hair is smoothed back and looks shorter as if cut just for the occasion. Once Mark reaches the bottom of the steps, he shows off his moves, a step here, a step there and it makes the girls collectively laugh, everyone except Becca who groans and hide her face in one of the couch throw pillows.

"Looking sharp, Mr. K," Kelly calls. There's a tremor in her voice, recalling the last time she'd been in the Keeler home, passed out on the couch, but Mark just gives her a smile like he doesn't even remember it happened. "At least someone has a hot date tonight."

"Thank you very much, Kelly Parker," Mark says, smoothing his hands down the lapels of his jacket. He walks to the closet in dark socks and riles through it. "I trust you girls are old enough and smart enough to not let things get too out of control. No burning down my house. Faith, that means you."

"Uncle Mark," Faith says, like she really is a blood relative. "Might I remind you who was super insistent I be the one to start the scary dragon barbeque the last time I was here?"

Mark laughs at the memory only Faith and him can enjoy. When he finally finds a pair of black shoes, he closes the closet door and goes to sit with the girls. "Faith is a natural on the grill."

"I didn't know the fire was going to lunge out at me when I lit it! I could've lost my eyebrows!" Faith shouts, pressing her hands to her cheeks. "Thank God I didn't. I'd probably eat my feelings into a food coma. I think I'll leave the grilling to the pros and stick to baking."

"Is that what we're doing tonight?" Kelly asks. "Just fyi, Faye, every time I look your way I find you stuffing your face." Kelly playfully pokes her like she's the Pillsbury doughboy and it makes Faith giggle and wildly kick her feet, eliciting a laugh from Kelly. "You're such a freak."

"A freak that wuves you," Faith baby talks. She hugs her again and Kelly doesn't protest. "Uncle Mark, so you don't have to worry I'll give you a rundown of our evening. We are going to bake and watch a bunch of horribly disturbing horror movies because what's more anti-Valentine's Day than horror movies? Then we'll paint body parts and talk about boys and other non-fire-starting shenanigans."

"I heard fire-starting shenanigans. Should I be worried?" Kim asks. She comes downstairs in a lovely, flowing dress with an ivory lace shawl as a little cover up. Faith flies out of her seat and hugs Kim even though it's only been a few days since they've last seen each other.

"You look amazing!" Faith pulls back so she can look at Mark and Kim together. "You're so cute together like, in a Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds You Were Meant for Me _Singing in the Rain_ kind of way."

"That is quite the complement," Kim says.

Mark grins. "Should I bring the umbrella along?"

"And I'm sure Payson or Becca can lend you a fedora," Faith says.

"I don't even own one," Payson says at the same time Becca says, "Dad is _not _wearing mine."

Kim leaves them a list of emergency contacts and remembers them to turn off the stove and oven when they're done and lock the doors. After Mr. and Mrs. Keeler leave for the evening, the girls move to the kitchen. Faith is a general, instructing the others what to do. Though she's over-the-top like Faith so often is, it's nice to see her passionate about something.

Once the entire house smells like guilt-free double chocolate brownies, they migrate to the living room, flip off the lights and watch Mike Myers stalk a teenage babysitter. Faith's eyes are on the screen, wide, lips parted and teeth clenched. The TV emits a loud scream and Faith jumps, scrambling to move closer to whoever's closest. Lucky Payson.

"Why is he doing this?" Faith cries, obviously deeply affected by what's happening onscreen. "Don't go in there! Don't go in there! Of course she goes in there right when I tell her not to!"

"Faith, she can't hear you. Unlike the rest of us," Kelly points out, disapproving of Faith's natural speaking volume. "And—spoiler alert—he kills her. And her boyfriend too."

"Boo. Kelly, shut up."

Just as predicted, the half-naked girl and her boyfriend ("he looks like Bassnectar") are killed by Myers and Faith makes sympathetic sounds. "Imagine how her mom and dad are going to react when they finally find her mutilated body. And I'm sure the boyfriend is a drug dealer or a DJ. Imagine all the disappointed junkies and musicheads. It's so sad."

"Faith, who thinks about things like that?" Payson asks.

Kelly makes a sound almost like a laugh. "Keeler, you just answered your own question."

"Faith, you dated all these boys?" Becca asks. Her eyes add, _and if you say yes you are my hero_. The younger gymnast has a MacBook Pro sitting in her lap as she looks through the collection of photos from Faith's European getaway. Photo after photo show her with a number of different people (majority boys) in various parts of the world.

"No, silly. Just friends I made," Faith says. The picture is of a big group with Faith at the center, standing in front of the Trivet Fountain, throwing coins, mid-air over their shoulders. "Oh! That's my traveling hippie band I was telling you about! I originally wanted to pull an _Almost Famous_, sexually uninterested groupie thing, but then I somehow ended up singing backup and shaking shakers throughout Italy. That guy right there," Faith points, "Embry, he tried to teach me how to play the accordion. You would have liked him, Kel."

"What makes you think I'd like him?"

"He's a musician, ink fanatic, hot but nerdy," Faith explains. They (well, other than Becca) can all feel the implication and where the conversation is headed. Kelly doesn't like it.

"So, Becks, who is your boy and why is he spending the sappiest weekend of the year with your sister's boy-man?" Kelly asks.

"They live together," Becca replies. She stops on a photo of Faith with a giant piece of pizza folded over as she tries to stuff it into her mouth in one try. In all the pictures, if Faith isn't playing nice with a boy, then she's eating. "Conrad Cooper."

"Really?" Kelly laughs. "You like that guy? I—"

Payson loudly coughs into her elbow and gives Kelly a sharp look. Their eyes meet. Message sent and received. They agree that learning your crush is crushing on Kelly Parker, someone you consider a friend and gymnastics idol, probably isn't the best way to spend tonight.

"—I saw him around Denver Elite," Kelly says. "Marty was in love with him and devastated when Conrad came to Boulder. I think he even cried. _So_ pathetic."

"I don't blame him. Conrad is perfect," Becca says dreamily. "He's tall and cute and sweet and he loves animals and I love his accent. Conrad is the best!"

"I concur. At least one of us has good taste in dudes," Faith says. "My favorite thing about Connie is how much he loves food. Oh! And he rides horses! The other day we were having a Nerf war at the lake house and Conrad showed me a picture of his horse back in Texas. It looked like Maximus from Tangled!"

Kelly isn't very impressed, though not much impresses her to begin with. "Which is only appropriate since it sounds like you're both describing a storybook prince or something."

"He is," Becca insists, failing to pick up on Kelly's insult. It reminds them of how young and innocent Becca still is and how nice that used to be. "Did Payson tell you about the time Conrad's crazy manager lady was harassing Payson and Conrad basically saved our lives?"

"Sheila Buboyan, the one you warned me about," Payson says. The name trigger something in Kelly, something she tries to cover up and it even steals Faith's attention from the TV. Payson feels like she tugged on the wrong string and she tries to sooth it by not forcing Kelly to address it. "Just Conrad doing what he always does. It's sad he's leaving gymnastics, though."

"Aye oh!" Faith shouts, just as eager to change the subject. "And another one joins my club!"

"But it's for a good cause," Becca says.

Kelly scowls. "There's no such thing as a good reason to leave gymnastics. Let me guess. He's leaving to go 'find himself' and ditch his friends when they need him and he'll probably end up somewhere in Europe and have all these lame stories about meeting hot guys who don't speak English, eating weird things and getting weird sunburns and peeling, etcetera etcetera."

Faith frowns. "Kel, we talked about this. You know I—"

"Faith, I'm making fun of you," Kelly says, spelling it out for her with a cheeky half-smile. When Faith realizes, she narrows her eyes and throws a handful of popcorn at Kelly.

"You're just jealous!" Faith shouts. Payson lets out a breath, seeing them like this. It's almost as if Rio never happened. Being able to move on so quickly and so swiftly is really a testament to the strength of their friendship. "Fyi, Kel, there's always Amsterdam. You can still come with. You know I want you to, but not nearly as much as Nicky wants you to."

"Payson," Kelly says. "Where do your parents keep their booze?"

"No," Faith says, scooting away from Payson and over to Kelly. "Kelly, don't."

"I'm joking. _Again._ God, lighten up. I have more respect for the Keeler fam than that," Kelly assures her. Faith hugs her and Kelly enjoys it even if she won't say it aloud. They stay like that for a good portion of the night and they move on to more important topics like gymnastics and Payson's relationship with Austin.

The next morning, Payson wakes up in her sister's bed, Becca snug up beside her. Watching one horror movie after another and being in an old house with creaking floors, Becca was almost as on edge as Faith, who was ready to start boarding up the windows, ranting about violent mutant savages try to rape her just for Kelly to point out that boarded up windows won't keep out the phantasmagoric preschoolers, which sent Faith into even more of a frenzy.

Payson winces when her bare feet meet the cold hallway floor. When she tiptoes into her room, she finds Faith still asleep, alone. After using the bathroom, Payson makes her way downstairs. She prays Kelly didn't snap and turn the kitchen upside down hunting for liquor. It's the worst-case scenario, but also at the front of Payson's mind. She goes downstairs, but pauses outside the kitchen when she hears voices on the other side of the swinging door.

"Tea?" Kim asks.

"Thank you, ma'am," Kelly replies.

"So Marty told me your dad's in town."

"Exactly why I'm not home right now," Kelly explains. "He won't be for long. Kolkatta, India, this time. He'll be fixing up kids with cleft palates. They'll still be living in poverty, but at least they'll look better… Wait, why is Marty talking to you about me?"

"It seems to me like he's talking to anyone who'll listen," Kim says. "He's worried about you and so am I. We didn't really get a chance to talk the last time you were here so let's talk now. What's been going on with you lately?"

"I don't know what you want me to tell you, Mrs. K."

"Kelly, you showed up at my house _drunk_. How am I supposed to see that and not assume something's wrong? My girls adore you. Payson would do _anything_ for you even if it means putting her future on the line. Becca idolizes you. Mark and I consider both Faith and you apart of our family. All I want is for you to tell me what's going on so I can figure out a way to help you through it. This is what family does."

A long pause follows and it feels like an entire minute goes by. Payson gets as close to the crack in the door as she possibly can and strains her hears to listen.

"It's okay," Kim says. "I know this isn't easy for you. Take all the time you need…"

"It's like, I want to be a good person, but what's the point in pretending? I've been like this all my life. I'm not fixable. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of something…something horrible and I have people like you Keelers and Faith and I used to have Nicky… And you all somehow make me forget how close I am to falling over the edge, but _I always do_. I do it without thinking and it sucks and it hurts, but it's the shit I have to deal with every freaking day and it's shit that never goes away. I appreciate you wanting to help, but it's _momentary_ and I know that and, God, I just said shit a bunch of times in your house…"

"Kelly."

The chair feet scratch the kitchen floor and Payson can only imagine either Kelly trying to run or Kim hugging her right now.

"I know you don't understand," Kelly continues, "and I'm glad because I wouldn't want you of all people feeling the way I constantly feel. You have no idea how much I hate this. I hate being this way. God, look at me. You probably had this amazing date with your husband last night and here I am talking about all my sh—_issues_ and I'm probably ruining your morning—"

"You're not," Kim assures her.

"I am."

"No. I'm proud of you. It means the world to me that you trust me enough to tell me what you just did. Kelly, I can't change the things that have happened to you or the things you've done. For the most part neither can you, but you and only you control your future. You are not helpless to change your situation. Do you hear me? You are not helpless, Kelly Parker."

There's a muffled sound that might be a whimper or a sigh or a refusal and then silence again.

"You can talk control of your life and your feelings and you don't have to do it alone," Kim assures her. "You have Marty, Faith, all us Keelers. Even Nicky, I'm sure. It is not momentary. You're always welcomed any time. I'm sure my kids would call me cheesy right now, but I really do believe that family is forever and we are your family."

"You're really great, you know?" Kelly says. "You always try to get to the heart of things which means you always assume there's a heart to get to."

"I've seen your heart, Kelly. I've heard the stories. _Good_ stories. And that isn't anything to be embarrassed about. I know you're probably annoyed and wondering why I'm always up in your business, but that's how I show I care and I don't plan on stopping any time soon."

"So should I expect random drug screenings?" Kelly asks. There's a smile in her voice, Payson can tell. "But mainly Breathalyzer tests, right?"

"Don't be surprised," Kim jokes. "We cool?"

Kelly laughs unexpectedly. "Yes, ma'am."

"So, anything else you want to talk about? Nicky maybe?"

"Mrs. K…"

"I know no teenage girl wants to talk about boys with an old person like me. All I'll say on the topic is that Nicky Russo is a nice boy. We've had him over for dinner, mostly tagging along with Faith, and I swear, every single time he asks Payson about you and how you're doing. Honey, if he's willing to be there for you, why don't you let him?"

Kelly sighs. "Because I don't trust him. I…I'm scared to trust him again."

"People change. Sometimes change can happen without us realizing, sometimes we change because we want to. If you can change for the better maybe Nicky can too."

Suddenly the door swings out from against Payson's ear and she sees Faith blaze past her and into the kitchen with a loud, moment-ruining, "Good morning, family!"

"Good morning, Faith!" Kim says, trying to draw her attention and give Kelly the time to recompose herself. "Come eat. We have fresh fruit and freshly squeezed orange juice."

"And we can make coffee and pancakes, right?" Faith asks.

"Only if you help."

"Absolutely."

Kim steers Faith away from Kelly to the stove. Payson slowly walks in and goes straight for the refrigerator, not even thinking to comment on the way Kelly's eyes are red and glassy, but for a whole other reason than what's become her norm. Payson grabs the orange juice and stops by the cupboard for glasses. When she moves to the table, Payson holds a glass out to Kelly and gives her a smile. Making an attempt to smile back, Kelly reaches out and takes it.

…

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><p><strong>Authors' Note:<strong> We played a lot with ideal love and more realistic love. What do you consider romantic? Romeo and Juliet? Anything at all in this chapter? And another familiar face comes to Boulder in the next chapter. Who do you think it is/want it to be?

**Review**.

#WeFaB #LLD2 #LLDforever


	11. Free Dumb Lovers

**Warning**: Savor the chapter, guys. Hiatus to follow.

* * *

><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

_March_

_The trouble with me is that I like to talk too much. – William Howard Taft / See what I did there? Thank your dead presidents, Lo. ;-)_

Lauren is grateful for W.H. Taft, the dead dude their school is named after. President's Day coupled with a teacher workday means they have a four-day weekend. It allows for some reflecting and a lot of ruminating following Valentine's Day.

So Max fools around behind Maeve's back. Big deal. Lauren shouldn't be as surprised as she is. It just annoys her how he played the sympathy card, acting like Maeve is a slave driver, like he doesn't want to be popular and just has it thrust upon him. She can't believe she almost fell for that. Needless to say, Lauren isn't looking forward to seeing him anytime soon.

Taft reminds her exactly why she hates that damn prison when the big spring sports rally rolls around. It's held to honor the school athletes a.k.a Matsui's favorites. The cheerleaders wear their cute little uniforms for the entire day and ribbons in their hair. Now that Lauren can't join her squad in the rally festivities, it isn't much fun at all. Even worse, Lauren has to take pictures of them being all peppy when she sees no reason to be cheering.

Kaylie leads them out onto the gym floor, trying to raise school spirit in the bleachers full of students. She hides her stress with her award-winning Cruz smile and the shake of her pom-poms. Kaylie is yet to realize that she's a natural born leader. She actually talks to the other girls and takes their input into consideration. When Lauren was squad captain, she just told the girls to shut up and do as she said _or else_. To Lauren, it was all about power and control. To Kaylie, it's about teamwork and solidarity. Maybe things are better this way.

After snapping a few pictures of the cheerleaders kicking up their skirts (Max'll probably keep a few for his Next Top Hoe to Cheat With collection), Lauren focuses the camera on the crowd. She easily spots Emily between Ike and the kid with the red beanie. She's upset and hasn't been sleeping well. Damn that Damon Young.

"Hey." Max comes up behind her. "Your V Dance picture is making the newspaper. Front page. The one of Gym Cyclops cockblocking the dance floor. Sadly, my headline for it got vetoed."

"Shame. It was so appropriate."

"So you didn't come to collect that dance I was saving for you," Max says.

"I cut out early. You said I had to be there, but you didn't say how long," Lauren says. "Plus, you were a little busy around the time I left and it wasn't on the dance floor."

His lips tug to one side and his eyebrows furrow. Lauren finally sees the relation to Nicky Russo. "I don't know what you're talking about…"

"Out in the parking lot." Her voice is loud enough to be heard over all the pep rally commotion, but low enough to be just between them. When his expression doesn't change, Lauren hints, "She moans like a harpooned whale."

Even when Max turns sheet white, Lauren remains unsympathetic and takes a few pictures of their beloved mascot, a creepy giant bird, leaving a trail of feathers behind him as he does a cartwheel. Always with the utmost respect for photography, Max waits till she's done before he grabs Lauren's arm and pulls her to the door. Despite her demands to be unhanded, Max doesn't let go until they're safely outside the gym.

"What did you see?" Max asks. This is the most serious she's ever. Lauren moves away from him, leaning back against a vending machine, where the glowing image of a Vitamin Water bottle has an eye spray painted over it.

"It's more about what I heard. I think _harpooned whale_ is as accurate as it gets," Lauren sasses, one hand perched on her jutted hip. "Where did Maeve think you were?"

"You can't tell her, Lauren," Max says, ignoring the question. "Not even Kaylie. You didn't tell Kaylie, did you? If she ever finds out, she'll tell Maeve and I'm a dead man."

"No, I didn't tell Kaylie. I haven't told anyone and I am totally fine with keeping things that way. I don't want to be involved in any of this. Just try to be a little more discrete next time you decide to cheat on your girlfriend, okay? Okay."

Just as she starts to retreat, Max asks, "You don't even want to know why?"

No, she doesn't want to know. She's better off not knowing and going on with her life. But then there's Max's face and how easy it is to tell that he has no one to talk to and lets it build up inside. If she were any one else, she'd probably find it heartbreaking.

"Why do you want me to know?" Lauren asks. "If she doesn't do it for you then maybe you should consider taking it up with her."

Though neither of them moves a muscle, barely even breathing, both hear the sound of crunching gravel. Marcus walks over in one of his vintage vests and looks between them. Max is quick to motion to the camera around his neck and the older model in Lauren's hands.

"Yearbook and newspaper," Max explains. "It's crazy inside. We needed a moment to regroup and see how the pictures are turning out before we go back inside."

Though Max can tell a flawless lie (not that Lauren finds it surprising anymore) Marcus still looks to Lauren for confirmation. It makes her feel pretty good that a teacher would take her word over a pretty boy Royal like Max. Lauren's never had that before.

"It's true," Lauren says. "The work of a reformed citizen is never done, Marcus."

"Make it quick," Marcus says. "You wouldn't want to miss the idol worship of your athletically inclined peers."

As soon as Marcus is a good distance away, Lauren's attention is back on the yearbook editor even when Max's eyes linger on Marcus until he completely disappears.

"These cameras are like golden tickets," Lauren says. "Who knew?"

"I'm not in love with her."

Reality rips straight through their fake high school existence and everything around them— Marcus' presence, the noise coming from the gym—it fades away. All that remains is Lauren and her shock and Max and his honesty. He refuses to face her, kicking at the gravel with the toes of his sneakers and instead chooses to focus on that, movement surrounded by stillness.

"I'm not in love with Maeve," Max says, more confident this time.

"Then why are you with her?"

"Because we're Max and Maeve, voted senior class cutest couple, the ones all our poor, sad struggling friends go to for relationship advice," Max explains. Lauren feels like she's the first person he's ever said this to. It's frightening. "We're so close to graduating. Do you know what a breakup would do? It'd ruin everything we spent the last two years perfecting."

"Does she know how you really feel?"

Max laughs, a little guilty but also like he thinks it's a stupid question. "I know Maeve better than I know most people. She isn't stupid. She knows things aren't how it was when we first started dating, but she's _Maeve_. Her biggest concern is how a breakup would affect her chance at prom queen. Don't get me wrong. Maeve is cool and hot, fun to be around and to talk to when she isn't putting up a front. I love her, but romantically, something isn't right."

"So you make out with slutty freshmen, thinking that'll solve your problems with Maeve?"

"She was a sophomore, actually…I think," Max says, a hint of a smile on his lips. Lauren refuses him the satisfaction of a reaction. "Look, it's not like I'm doing it because I want to see how many girls I can get with. It isn't about bedpost notches. It's about feeling like something in my relationship is missing and trying to figure out what that is, if it's her or maybe it's me."

"By running the bases of different diamonds behind your girlfriend's back?" Lauren is so against cheating in relationships, especially after seeing the way it scarred Kaylie.

"I know it sounds bad," Max admits, "but what would you do?"

Dump him. If she were in a relationship with someone she wasn't in love with and knew it then she'd end it. But then she imagines, what if it was Razor? Even she'd hesitate, but resorting to cheating is stupid. It's making a complicated situation messier than it already is, especially since Maeve is the type to take her pain out on anyone who crosses her path.

"So what? You're just going to break up with her at Grad Night?"

"Not Grad Night. After. I figure when I finally tell her about New York she'll get upset and break up with me, save me the trouble of hurting her. It's high school. After graduation, we'll laugh at all the phony sentiments in our yearbooks and then it'll all be gone."

"And if it backfires?" Lauren asks. "What are you going to do if she thinks it's great and starts talking about you two getting a place together on the Upper East Side and your mom hooking her up with designers? NYC is pretty much the fashion capital of America."

"I never really thought of that…" Max kicks at the gravel with more power. Frustration.

She knows it isn't nice, but Lauren laughs. "Wow. You're screwed."

Max chuckles and Lauren wishes he wouldn't. It's such a depressing sound.

"Have you ever thought about how, I don't know, she might be pissed when she finds out that her whole senior year teenage dream was a fake?"

"How do you think I feel?" Max seethes. Lauren almost flinches. "I've known the entire time. I think about this _all the time_ and before you, I kept it to myself. I usually tell Maeve about stuff that bothers me, but I can't because it'll destroy her. It wasn't all bad. Just lately…"

Max kicks a rock clear across the courtyard and Lauren doesn't say anything. His conflicted feelings show on his face, but something tells Lauren that there's more to it. He's still holding something back. Her natural nosiness craves the other secrets Max has buried in his psyche.

"We should probably get back in there," Max says. "Lauren, you won't tell anyone, right? I'm in a really tough position here and I don't want this all over school. I can trust you, can't I?"

"If Maeve hears it, it won't be from me."

Smoothing his fingers through his dark hair, Max gives her a half-smile. "Thank you."

The way he looks at her leaves an impression on her and Lauren hates how deep it goes. It's too personal. She knew this was a bad idea, learning things about each other, seeing beneath the surface and sharing secrets. She isn't supposed to be friendly with this guy because with Lauren, unless your name is Ike Benzinger, she has trouble remembering which lines shouldn't be crossed. A hot guy like Max getting too close, Lauren knows to push him back.

Step one is breaking their stare, which she does, reluctantly.

"So, you know my friend, the future Olympic gymnast?" Lauren says. Changing the subject to something casual, something safe, that's step two. "Well, guess who's the lucky photographer with an all access pass to her practice sesh and gets to take a few pictures?"

"How'd you swing that?" Max questions, as they head back to the gym.

"I told her it was a school project and not my own selfish reason like it is."

"Hold on." Max swings his bag to his front and carefully fishes out a bag with another camera inside. "Use this. Same basic functions, even simpler, actually. It's practically an antique. Use it and then I can show you how to develop the film. You can finally see my darkroom."

Lauren knows how horrible that sounds, but a part of her admits it could be fun too.

"Deal."

Walking ahead of Max, Lauren hopes the rest of the day is less eventful and indeed turns out to be particularly dull until Lauren finds herself in the Rock parking lot. She stares up at the ominous structure. It looks a lot different in the daylight compared to when she's sneaking around it with her three best friends on particularly restless summer nights.

Lauren wanders inside and the smell hits her hardest. Sweat and ambition. Gymnasts are all around, using various apparatus with their gorgeous, powerful bodies. Max must be brainwashing her or something because the way the lights fall on one particular girl working through a floor routine makes her itch to capture the moment on film.

"Excuse me, Miss," a low, sexy voice calls out to her. "This is a closed practice."

"She's with me!" Payson joins them, wearing a purple leotard and dusted with chalk. "Sasha, my mom spoke to you about it? Lauren is doing a project for school. She already signed the confidentiality agreement saying she won't sell or manipulate the pictures and it won't be any of the other gymnasts, just me. You said it was okay, didn't you?"

Payson watches him, seeking his approval and Sasha withdraws and hesitates. A grown man reduced to a gawky schoolboy. Payson is blind to it, but it sets off a red flag with Lauren.

"Oh, right. Slipped my mind," Sasha replies. "Carry on. Just don't disturb any of the other gymnasts. One complaint and I'm sorry to say I'll have to ask you to leave."

"There won't be any problems. I promise," Lauren says sweetly.

Sasha talks to Payson about working on something or other. It's lost on Lauren, especially since her interest veers more towards the body language. There's such unresolved tension between coach and gymnast, definitely something Lauren hasn't seen before, especially when all she has to go off of is her brief experience in dealing with Marty.

When Sasha goes across the room to check in with the girl practicing on the mats, Lauren whips her head to Payson. "Did something happen between you two?"

Good lord is Payson's confusion adorable. She's taken aback and clearly, it's genuine. "Lauren, why would you even say something like that?"

"Did you not see how weird he was right there?" Lauren asks, motioning across the gym to where Sasha is out of earshot. "Something _so_ happened. Do not try to keep it from me, Payson Elizabeth!"

The gymnast deadpans. "Lo, don't call me that. My mom calls me that."

"Hmm, I wonder what your _boyfriend_ would think of a certain World Champ getting cozy with the coach," Lauren teases, trying to poke Payson who tries to shove her away in reply.

"There's nothing to be thinking about," Payson corrects her. "Whatever it is you think you're sensing, I have no idea and had no part in. Lo, focus. Remember why you're here."

Right. She's here for her bogus assignment for Photojournalism (a class Lauren totally made up). She recognizes how ridiculous it is that she needs to spin lies just to spend time with her friend, but Payson's life is busier than most girls their age. Though they've never had a serious conversation about it, Lauren takes pride in Payson and her accomplishments. Bringing her camera up, Lauren snaps a picture of Payson without warning.

"Payson Keeler, pretty in leo," Lauren says. "That one's for Ike's shrine to you in his locker."

Rubbing her eyes, Payson says, "I didn't agree to this so you could play paparazzi."

"Fine. What apparatus are you working on?"

"I was just about to hit the beam."

A part of Lauren, one she thought died when she left the sport, swells within her. The beam has a special place in her heart. It was her favorite event and one she dominated. They didn't call her the Bitch of the Beam without reason.

While Payson is working through her routine, first in her head and then physically, there's something about her that demands to be photographed. Lauren weighs Max's camera in her hands, focuses the lens and takes a few shots like a pro. Max Spencer really did leave an impression on her, more so than Lauren ever wants to admit.

As Sasha gives Payson feedback, Lauren sees the cult leader from New York. She walks into the Rock and Lauren can't stop staring at her black ankle boots, wanting to steal them. Faith's off-black jeans look like she cut them herself and split the seams to cuff the bottoms. Her hair, red and brown with blonde highlights, in her face, down her shoulders, intentional chaos. Lauren doesn't understand why, but even she feels the allure Faith Giancana is infamous for.

"Pay, you didn't tell me _she_ was back." Lauren doesn't mean to sound catty, but she does feel a bit possessive. Faith Giancana is definitely a source of unnecessary stress for Kaylie.

"I'm pretty sure I did," Payson counters. "You probably weren't listening."

"Oh, just pin the blame on me."

When Faith ends her phone call, she walks over to them, no hesitation whatsoever, and Lauren can't resist staring at her boots. They're freaking cute and Faith has tiny feet.

"Hi again! I'm Faith if you don't remember, from last summer."

God, she's one of those sweet bitches who pretend to be nice and then tear your head off and steal your boyfriend when you blink. But since she's Payson's friend, Lauren smiles.

"Hey, I'm Lauren Tanner," she says. "I _love_ your boots."

"Aw, thanks," Faith says, turning her heels in to give Lauren a better view. "I got them from his little family-owned leather shop in Naples. _So_ awesome! You choose what design you want and they take your measurements and make the boots to fit you. The only thing is I asked if they did online orders and the man just laughed and called me a silly American so I'm assuming that's a no. If you're ever in Italy, I can hook you up with directions."

"I've always wanted to go," Lauren confesses. "I have family on my mom's side in Calabria."

"No way!" Faith shouts excitedly. "I have family in Sicily and do Nicky and Max. Giancanas and Russos galore! We're all practically cousins. Italian takeover."

Not only is Faith Giancana alluring, but her smile is infectious too. Lauren doesn't know her family outside of the U.S., but she does know she's Calabrese. She's Italian and takes pride in that no matter how shameful the Jersey Shore cast is. Lauren doesn't think of her heritage very often, but now she's intrigued. Thank you, Faith Giancana.

"Was that Kelly on the phone?" Payson asks. "What'd she say?"

"She can't make it for dinner." Faith sighs dejectedly. "Parker Family Drama ensues. Her dad is probably upset that he caught us in bed together." Lauren shoots Payson a look, but Payson quickly shakes it away. Faith doesn't even realize. "I mean, sure, Kelly didn't tell him I was in town, but what's the big? So she lets me use her car and eat whatever's in the fridge, and sleep in her bed. Those things keep me from being homeless! Faith hate at its finest."

"Faith hate? As a devout practitioner of Faithism, that's just sinful." Austin comes up behind the girls. Sweat glistens across his forehead and all down his sculpted, tattooed arms. His muscle definition distracts Lauren from coveting Faith's boots. "You could always stay with Connie and me. I'm sure the Southern gent' would volunteer his bed and everything."

"Only if he's in it," Faith says. Payson elbows her. "Ouch! Becca isn't around and it's true!"

"The offers always good, Pretty," Austin says. "We could always use a maid." Faith wrinkles her nose at the very idea. "What? How else do you expect to earn your keep?"

Faith's lips part, about to answer, but Payson cuts her off with, "Don't say sexual favors."

Faith wraps her arms around Payson in a half-hug. "You know me too well, Pace. Thanks for the offer, Handsome, but being the Snow White to your two overgrown dwarfs? I'm not even the Snow White to my own inner dwarf. It's okay. I'll probably go stay with Nicky until Kelly's dad leaves. It sucks that she can't make it tonight. She really wanted to, for real this time. She was looking forward to giving Conrad the _hurt Becca and I'll rip your face off_ speech."

Austin chuckles. "I still think we should set up KP and Connie."

"I am so down with that!" Faith holds her hand up and Austin gives her a high-five. Standing between them, Payson shakes her head.

"Faith, are you really encouraging this?"

"You know I created the _Give Me a Nicky and Kelly Reunion _Facebook page—which needs more 'likes' by the way—but if he's getting play then Kelly should be out with someone like Cutie Pie, not DE meatheads. Plus, every time I bring up Conrad, her face does this _thing_ and she won't tell me, but something _so _happened between them! Aus, care to fill in the blanks?"

"Beats me," he replies. "All I know is Conrad can help KP gets over Jerk-Off and she can help Con get over his ex and also give him more reasons to stay. They'd both be happy, we can all be best friends forever and kill the Olympics together. Happily ever after."

"He is not over his Jackie Nevada and Kelly…" Payson stops herself, looking at Lauren. "She's getting herself back together and he's joining the army. The last thing either of them needs right now is a romantic relationship."

"Kelly started asking me about Nicky the other day!" Faith says with excitement. "How he is, college plans, stuff like that. Quality time with Aunt Kim did her some major good."

Austin scoffs. "We don't call him 'Nicky' around here. We only refer to him as Jerk-Off."

"Because that's as close to play as he's getting?" Lauren asks. The Gym Camp Family finally acknowledges the blonde's presence and they share a laugh that makes her feel welcomed. This group, as odd as it seems, somehow works. "So what's her deal? Why doesn't Kelly just talk to Jerk-Off?"

Austin smirks, happy that someone is following the rules.

"It isn't easy for her," Faith explains. "The thing about Kelly is you have to let her to her own thing on her own terms and her own time. It's just my job to keep her off the booze, get her to the gym every day on time and now I guess Handsome and I are gonna get her laid!"

Austin chuckles and holds his hand up for another high-five that Faith delivers with a little comical hop. Lauren's attention goes right back to those adorable boots.

"Does this mean the intervention is off?" Payson questions.

"We'll keep it in the back pocket for now. Don't throw away your expected, three-page, single space intervention speech just yet." Faith winks at the blonde. She eyes Austin who innocently sways from side to side. "And _you_ need to start your speech! Come on, Aus. She needs us. Mommy and daddy issues make the booze flow and suckishly, Kel has both."

Lauren tenses. From that alone, she can actually relate to Kelly Parker.

"On top of Jerk-Off issues," Austin adds. "Man, if I ever run into that kid…"

"You'll behave yourself because _Nicky_ isn't so bad," Payson says. It's just like Payson to be true despite what her friends may think. "If you had an actual conversation with him you'd know he's genuinely worried about Kelly and wants to be back in her life."

"And back in her pants," Austin adds. "Pretty, I know he's your BFF and everything, but the dude used KP for sex. I'd never do that to a girl and I'm supposed to be _Austin Tucker_."

When she hears that, Lauren almost gasps. She immediately turns to Payson with eyes narrowed. "Does Kaylie know this?"

A wave of panic sweeps through the faces around her. Austin colors with regret.

"If Kaylie knows, I didn't tell her," Payson says. "If she knows, Nicky had to have."

"But it doesn't matter!" Faith says, quickly sliding into damage control mode. "No one—and by no one I mean Kaylie—has to worry about Nicky and Kelly hooking up ever again because they won't. If our friendship means anything to them, and I know it does, they won't. When things break, it's not the actual breaking that stops everything from coming back together again. It's because little pieces get lost between them so they don't fit anymore."

"But it doesn't mean they can't form a whole new, better shape, right?" Payson asks.

"How optimistic, Keeler." Austin swoops his arm out like he's going to hug her, but then remembers where they are and tries to play it off, swinging his arms at his sides. "I'm still not a fan of that guy, but Payson has a point."

"Sorry, real quick, do you all get ancient monks to mentally text you all this wise crap?" Lauren asks. Everyone looks at her as if they forgot she was there. Lauren hates not being the center of attention, but finds herself too absorbed in watching to really care.

"We're just cool like that," Faith replies.

Lauren eyes Austin. "So, Mr. Famous, I heard you called Maeve Benson anorexic."

Austin raises his eyebrows in genuine interest. "The girl from the party?"

They all wait on Payson's response when Sasha walks out of the office and finds the clique of gymnasts and former gymnasts not partaking in any gymnastics.

"What is all this standing around? This isn't a debutant ball! You're gymnasts! Let's get back to gymnastics!" Sasha shouts. They all scatter with Austin heading to the annex and Payson dragging Lauren to the vault. Faith turns one way just to turn the other way and ends up spinning in a confused circle before coming to face Sasha with a big smile. "Faith…"

"Right. I know. Stay in the observation room."

"And Faith…"

"Yes, Sasha?"

"It's nice to see you again."

Not too far away, with Max's antique camera in hand, Lauren snaps a picture of the auburn-haired girl and the scruffy man in the Rock polo shirt. Lauren doesn't know why, but her camera eye keeps going back to Faith over and over again. Maybe developing the film and holding the prints in her hands will give her some kind of explanation. For now, Lauren takes multiple pictures of Faith Giancana and she doesn't really know why.

…

For reasons she can't explain, Kaylie has Faith Giancana's voice in her head.

_Pick me. Choose me. Love me! _

Currently, Kaylie's heart screams that exact thing at Payson.

"Kaylie, I don't have time for this."

"Payson!" Pant. "Wait!" Gasp. "I wanna—" Wheeze. "—I wanna talk to you!"

Kaylie must really be out of practice if Payson hasn't even broken a sweat and she's ready to drop. It doesn't help that she hasn't been running at all since the fight at Lauren's party. With AJ home, there's an overwhelming amount of junk food in the cupboards and they've been eating mostly takeout since Ronnie's putting in overtime at work.

"Kaylie, I don't want to hear it unless you're ready to apologize."

"I am!" Kaylie says. "Just _stop_!"

Payson slows to a halt before they cross the old iron bridge deep in the park. With spring coming and temperatures warming, the stream is a little louder than a trickle, but Kaylie's heavy breathing drowns out all else. She leans forward with her hands on her knees, heart pumping loudly in her chest and beads of sweat starting to take form at her hairline.

"Are you okay?" Payson asks. "I thought you run all the time for cheer?"

"Yeah, but, ugh, I've been skipping on the conditioning to get the choreo done." Kaylie straightens and wipes the back of her hand across her forehead. "Okay, you win. I should have told you. I'm sorry. Max asked me not to and I just said yes. Honestly, I didn't even think to tell you, but you're right. If you knew something like that about one of our friends then I'd want you to tell me. I really am sorry, Payson."

"Thank you," Payson says. "And I'll admit I might have overreacted and you didn't need that on top of whatever happened between you and Nicky. It's just…Kelly is a mess right now and I don't know what else to do to help her."

"Yeah, I heard from Nicky and, well, from Faith talking to Nicky." Kaylie's still not over how awkward that entire overheard conversation was. "I don't blame you for being worried, especially after seeing those photos. Is she really doing that bad?"

"Pretty bad. If my mom had the option, she'd probably put Kelly under house arrest, but things are slowly getting better now that Faith is here. Before, Kelly was showing up at my house, drunk in the middle of the night. I wish I knew what to do for her, but I still don't."

"That's the thing, Pay. You can't be her crutch."

"Not forever, but at least until she gets back on track. I'd do it for you," Payson says. Kaylie nods, knowing Payson means it with all her heart. "So, yes, I'd do it for Kelly too."

With her breathing back to normal, Kaylie leans against the railing of the bridge. Payson does the same, gazing down at the water below. They used to come here a lot as kids, the four of them, on picnics with Mrs. Keeler supervising. It's hard to believe things were once so simple.

"Do you think things will ever get easier?" Kaylie asks.

"Dealing when your loyalty to someone compromises your loyalty to someone else?"

Kaylie nods.

"I wish we didn't have to deal with it at all."

"Same here," Kaylie says. "Pay, I missed you."

Payson laughs, so relaxed, letting Kaylie know that things are on their way to being good between them again. "It's been a little over a week."

"Well, look what happens when we go that long without each other!" Kaylie says, dramatically throwing up her hands. It makes Payson crack a smile and in turn, Kaylie beams. "I can even run anymore."

"To be fair, I was practically sprinting to get away from you."

"Thanks a lot, Payson," Kaylie says sarcastically. She lifts her leg backwards at the knee, stretching out her calf. She slowly sets it down and does the same to the other.

The blonde gives her a cute, cheeky smile. "I knew you'd enjoy the honesty."

Kaylie pouts, her signature Cruz pout, and holds her arms open. The way Payson moves in to hug her without the slightest bit of hesitation puts Kaylie at ease. While her relationship with Nicky is constantly shifting, at least she has the comfort of knowing there are always chances with friends. When they pull away, Payson asks if she had a nice Valentine's Day and Kaylie tells her everything about their conversation on the side of the road.

"Tough," Payson says. "You know he's reaching out to Kelly again, right?"

"He told me or at least implied it. Am I wrong to be worried? I understand that Kelly is going through something and he wants to be there for her, but I hate feeling like he puts his friendship with Faith and Kelly above his relationship with me. I'm his girlfriend. I'm supposed to be the starting lineup, the MVP of the starters, but, no, I get benched every time."

"A baseball analogy?" Payson asks. "I know it's hard for you, but I'm sure once he gets everything cleared up with Kelly and they're friends again, things will change for the better."

"I don't know if I can sit around, hoping it does. That might be selfish, but I have to take care of me." Again, Faith Giancana sneaking into her subconscious. "If you like the baseball analogies, the way things are going, we're up to bat, bottom of the ninth, bases loaded and already two strikes. Either we're making it to the World Series or we're striking out."

"I don't know what any of that means." Payson laughs. "My dad watches football." Kaylie giggles. "But I see what you're saying, sorta. I don't know what to tell you, Kaylie."

"Tell me that you and I are back to being friends again. That's all I want right now."

"Kaylie, you and I _never stopped_ being friends."

"Yay. Now tell me we can walk the rest of the way back."

"No," Payson says. "If anything, we're jogging."

"Can we settle on a power walk?"

"Kaylie, don't be lazy."

Payson starts jogging again and Kaylie dragging her body to try and keep up. At least this time it doesn't seem like Payson is trying to intentionally lose her. Once the two cross the old bridge, Kaylie starts to get use to the pace when Payson suddenly stops.

"What's wrong, Pay?"

"Did you mean it? About wanting me to tell you if I knew something potentially harmful about someone you care about?"

Kaylie's gut tightened and her mind instantly goes to Nicky and Kelly. It's a reflex at this point. All of Max and Maeve's hints have groomed her suspicions and she's scared Payson, being a good friend and following their new agreement, is about to confirm it. Kaylie doesn't mean to play stupid, but when she opens her mouth, it just sort of happens.

"Emily or Lo?" Kaylie asks.

"Neither."

Her heart speeds up yet her feet are firmly planted.

"It isn't even a hundred percent," Payson continues, "but at Lauren's party, Austin pointed out some red flags about Maeve and it's just some concerns, not any accusations or anything."

Kaylie relaxes, but not entirely. "Payson, what are you talking about?"

"He just seemed a little concerned about her weight…or lack of it."

"Oh, you mean how she's a twig? Payson, she wants to be a model so she's super food and exercise conscious. It's just how she is." Kaylie doesn't even have to think about it. "Are you trying to say Maeve is anorexic or bulimic or something? That's ridiculous. She wouldn't."

"I'm not saying she is or would," Payson says. "I'm just saying as her friend you might want to keep an eye out. In gymnastics, it was always a well-kept secret. When it happened to a girl, everyone knew, but no one would talk about it. I'd imagine it's pretty similar in the modeling industry. If anything, it's just a precaution."

"I'll keep an eye out. Thanks, Pay."

Payson squeezes her arm. "Now, come on. We have another half mile to go."

Kaylie groans.

"Come on. When we get back I'll get you some cheese to go with your whine."

Kaylie laughs. "Oh, that right there was cheesy enough. Someone's been hanging out with her dad a little too much."

"This coming from the girl who just made a baseball analogy?"

Kaylie laughs. "I guess I just miss my dad when he's away."

"Yeah, me too."

As different as they are, they can also relate on a number of levels. Payson starts jogging again and Kaylie moves right up beside her. After her jog, Kaylie is awake and refreshed. She feels so good she almost doesn't want to go home to the chaos of the Cruz house. Ronnie is stressed out over a party she's throwing for her label at their house, complaining nonstop, working the maids to the bone and threatening AJ if he embarrasses her.

The day goes by at a crawl, especially after the athletic rally. After the last class of the day, Kaylie wants to go home and take a nap, but she has cheer practice and responsibilities as the newfound captain. Kaylie spots Emily at her locker and walks over, avoiding the cheer squad for just a little longer.

"Why so gloomy, Em?" Kaylie asks. Emily doesn't answer, zoning out. "Em? Emily!"

When Kaylie grabs Emily by the shoulders, it startled the taller girl. She quickly relaxes when she realizes Kaylie's the culprit. "Did you say something, Kay?"

"I asked why you look so sad," Kaylie says, tugging Emily close. She watches the way her jaw tenses, probably chewing the inside of her cheek. All Kaylie has to do is steer Emily to a quieter part of the hall and she tells her all about Damon, the flowers and the phone call.

Kaylie squeezes Emily's arm and stands on her tiptoes as she exclaims, "That's so sweet!"

"Sweet? Kaylie, he has no right!"

"Em, he's trying to tell you that he still cares," Kaylie argues.

"But he has no right to," Emily argues. "Damon isn't my boyfriend anymore."

Tilting her head, Kaylie asks, "But maybe he still wants to be?"

"After everything that's happened?" Emily says with an angry edge to her voice. "I don't even know what's happened. He can't just send me flowers and sing me a song and expect me to just forgive him without an explanation. _I_ had to get his number from Jody."

"He sang you a song?" Kaylie just can't help it.

"Alexz Johnson."

Kaylie squeezes her arm again before falling back on the balls of her feet and playfully fanning herself. Emily just shakes her head and laughs.

"I love you, Kay. Our hopeless romantic with the rose colored glasses."

Kaylie hates the way Emily says it like having ideals and being a sentimental dreamer is naive. Kaylie wholeheartedly believes it's possible to have romantic love that lasts forever. Emily's expression says she's giving up, but Kaylie isn't ready to let her.

"Emily, I thought I was done with love after everything that happened with Carter, but then I carried on and then I met Nicky. Don't give up. We're too young to be giving up on love."

"What am I supposed to do, Kaylie? Hold on to some fantasy that if I stick it out in Laguna, Damon will come and rescue me like Cinderella? No. At this point in my life, I think it's better to be grounded and realistic. Having an amazing summer with a mysterious boy and thinking it would last the year? Not grounded. Not realistic."

"So who is realistic for you? That druggie Rodge guy?"

Emily shrugs and Kaylie _really_ doesn't like this.

"Would that be so bad?" Emily asks. Kaylie's jaw drops. She has got to be kidding. "Rodge is from Laguna. He knows what it's like having to fight just to get through the day. He gets me like that. I never had that with Damon. I don't even have that with you or Lo or even Payson."

"And how does love factor into that exactly?"

"Kaylie, I really don't want to talk about this right now."

When Emily starts to walk away, Kaylie grabs onto her bag to reel her back. "Wait, one more thing. Did Damon tell you where he is?"

Emily's expression darkens. "Denver."

Kaylie doesn't know how she should react and gives a squeaky, "Oh."

"And I have no idea why."

"You?" Kaylie tilts her chin down and looks up at Emily through her dark lashes. "Or maybe…my mom?"

"What does your mom have to do with Damon?"

"He signed with Sheppard Records, right?"

"Right," Emily says. "Razor's grandpa owns it."

"Yeah, apparently, they merged with my mom's label so now they're one, big happy family, which means Damon is signed under my mom," Kaylie explains, at least to the best of her knowledge. "He was at my house the other day. He seemed confused when I told him we were friends and I was confused he was even there and it was all just really confusing."

"So he isn't in town to see me."

Emily states it like a fact. For some reason, Kaylie really wants to fight her on it.

"You don't know that."

"Kaylie, it's alright. Do me a favor. Enjoy what you have with Nicky. He likes hanging out with his friends, but he also really cares about you. Just stop second-guessing and be with him. That's all any of us can really do. I don't regret what Damon and I had. Some of my favorite memories are from last summer with him, but that's all it is now. Memories."

"I came over to cheer you up and now you're giving me advice?"

"Seems so." Emily gives her a somewhat convincing smile. "I gotta get home. Cheer practice?"

"Cheer practice, which I'm starting to hate more and more. Lo is so bitter she doesn't want to help me and help is one thing I could use. Oh! But I came over to tell you the good news. Payson and I finally made up. I had to chase her all over the forest, but it worked."

"Finally. Best friends forever," Emily says. Kaylie hugs her because she's just that type of affectionate person and Emily hugs her back until they both notice Maeve marching over and apparently in the worst mood. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Kay."

"Bye, Em."

When they cross, Maeve and Emily don't even acknowledge each other. Sometimes Kaylie wishes her friends could be friends, but she knows they aren't exactly compatible.

"Hey," Kaylie says sweetly. "Why so pissed?"

"What's going on between your other, less amazing bestie and my boyfriend?"

Kaylie is taken aback for a moment. Then she replies, "Nothing."

"That's bullshit. You were too busy dreamboating away with Nicky at the dance, but I saw Lauren Tanner talking to Max. Next thing I know he disappeared from the room and—poof—she's gone too! Then he came back, all disheveled like some little slut's been touching his hair and I asked where he went and he said he was with Shane—obviously a lie. Don't tell me you didn't see them walk out in the middle of the rally together. What's with that?"

"I'm willing to bet it had something to do with the yearbook since they're both on the committee," Kaylie says slowly. "Maeve, you're being paranoid. Max is in love with you and Lauren is always complaining about him and yearbook. He isn't even Lauren's type."

"Really, because I thought other girls' boyfriends _is_ her type." Hearing the venomous dig at her childhood friend, Kaylie gives Maeve a hard look. Maeve receives the message loud and clear. "Fine. I'm sorry. Max has been distant lately and as his girlfriend, I'm worried."

"Even I'm guilty of that. I just don't think you have anything to worry about. You guys are like the perfect couple. If you can't make it then there's absolutely no hope for the rest of us."

"There's no such thing as perfect, Kaylie Cruz. Even if I come pretty close," Maeve says. It's nice to hear her joke. Maeve can be so volatile. Her moods have a tendency to turn on a dime.

"Are you okay, May?" Kaylie asks. "You seem a little pale."

"I went a little lax on the bronzer." As Maeve checks her reflection in her little gold compact, Kaylie studies her with Payson's words in mind. "Kaylie, I see you worrying and I'm telling you now—don't. I'm fine. We're three months away from graduation and we have spring break to look forward to and prom. There's just so much going on. I don't have the time to worry about some girl ruining my relationship with my boyfriend, especially one I tolerate only for you."

"If it makes you feel any better then I'll talk to Lo."

Maeve is visibly excited, even squeezes Kaylie's hand, but then comes down from it almost immediately after. "No, Kaylie, it's fine. I don't want you getting into a fight with your friend over Max and me. I know that friendship is on thin ice as is. You know what? Forget I said anything. I need to talk to Max about it anyways."

"It can't hurt to bring it up, but I'm sure it's nothing."

"You're always so good to me. Love you, Kaylie-cakes." Maeve wraps an arm around Kaylie and kisses her cheek. "Now I'm off to get one of those nerds to do my homework. Text me when practice is over. Me being your chauffer and all."

"Will do."

So maybe Maeve is a little thin, but Kaylie has met her mom and dad and they're both tall and slim. It has to be genetics. Maeve has a close to perfect life. She wouldn't do something stupid and damaging to her body. Payson meant well, but it's messing with Kaylie's head.

During practice, two of the cheerleaders get into a fight over a boy (shocker) and it take a big chunk out of their time when their coach has to break it up and pulls the girls (two flyers) aside for mediation. Kaylie has no control over the squad and it's frustrating. To make things worse, when Kaylie texts Maeve, she says she already left school.

"Need a ride?"

Kaylie is ready to yell at Maeve over the phone for ditching her, but then she sees Nicky smiling sheepishly at her. Kaylie shifts a little and ends the call just as Maeve answers. She might not let it go by unnoticed, but Maeve will understand.

"Hey," Kaylie says carefully. "What are you doing here? Dropping off Faith at Payson's again?"

"No, not at all. I wanted to see you. I know things got a little tense before, after and during the dance. I wanted to talk so I texted Maeve and told her I'd take you home, but not before we stop by the grocery store and pick up a few things."

"Like what?"

"I thought we could cook dinner," Nicky says, with this super sweet, hopeful smile. "Faith and my dad are _obsessed_ with cooking. They like to pretend they have their own cooking show in our kitchen and it's been nonstop homemade pasta fifty different ways. I'm craving tapas and I can't think of anyone who'd appreciate it more than you."

Kaylie smiles at how sweet he's being. "Anything specific?"

Nicky pulls out a slip of paper from his back pocket. "Top secret Morales family dishes."

"Sounds great. I haven't cooked in a while," Kaylie says. "How is Abuela Morales?"

"She sounds good." His face lights up at the mention of his grandmother and Kaylie thinks that's one of the cutest things she's ever seen. "She was giving me a hard time, saying my Spanish is rusty. She also told me that Hector's dad is doing a lot better. She complained about how my abuelo is stubborn and forgetful and never listens to anything she tells him."

"Sounds like someone else I know," she teases.

Nicky playfully narrows his eyes as he opens her door for her and Kaylie gets into his SUV. Something feels different and it's a good different. It feels like Nicky is actually making an effort. She stares out the window and at the highway signs as they drive by.

"Do you ever have those days where you just want to keep going?" Kaylie asks. "You just want to keep driving and leave everything behind, see where you end up?"

"All the time, but I always end up second guessing it. It may not feel like it sometimes, but there's a lot to stay for. You, for one, I'd always end up coming back as long as you're here."

Kaylie can't hide her smile as she says, "Right answer."

"Really?"

"For once," she says, joking, but not really. "So, where's Faith?"

"With Payson, I think. I haven't seen her, actually. I had a big Physiology exam today and she knows I can't concentrate when she's around so she spent the weekend with Payson and she was at Kelly's long enough to piss off Dr. Parker. Payson didn't mention anything?"

"We made up today. We got into a little argument, but it's over now," Kaylie says. That's how friendship should be. "So how do you think you did on the test?"

"Aced it."

She rolls her eyes at how confident he is when it comes to school. "Like I'd expect anything less. And that doesn't convince you that you're a Future Dr. Russo in the making?"

"Still undecided," Nicky says, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

"Don't you have to decide sometime soon?"

"I don't _have to_ do anything, but, yeah, thinking about it stresses me out. That's what my dad wants. I've been conditioned for a medical career. I'm not squeamish. I can deal with blood and puking. I grew up around hospitals all my life. I want to get out of Colorado, but then there's the thought of turning into my dad and that would suck."

His dad also lost his mom in the most painful way. Both of the Russo men did.

"I'm sure you'll be amazing at whatever you choose." Kaylie slides her hand over his and Nicky laces their fingers. Kaylie wishes it could be like this all the time.

When they get to the grocery store, Kaylie tries to sneak a look at his paper, but Nicky won't let her. She stands by as Nicky inspects the fish and even shows off, giving her little facts about the different types. When they get to her house, they have the entire castle to themselves. A note on the fridge says AJ took Amelia to the zoo.

"Does your brother work?" Nicky asks so bluntly that it makes Kaylie laugh.

"He owns and runs a non-profit. I think he's going to hold an event or something here in Boulder," Kaylie explains, putting the grocery bags down on the kitchen counter. "Okay, are you going to finally tell me what we're making?"

"Patience," Nicky says, rolling a tomato in his hand. "Most Spaniards, my family especially, believes that the country's fish and shellfish taste best eaten in their place of origin, but to me, a meal is only as great as the person preparing it and right now that's me."

"Way high on the arrogant chart," Kaylie teases. "Like a glass of wine to the face arrogant."

"Say what you want, but I know I'm right and we're going to make something awesome, but if I tell you then my abuela would want me to kill you and then she'd kill me. While I do all the secret stuff, you can dice this tomato." He leans in close and gives her a grin. "Princess."

It's both equally infuriating and adorable that he calls her that. While Kaylie takes a knife to the tomato, Nicky explains that they're making Grouper a la Mallorquina (fish with a ton of different vegetables piled atop), spiced clams and ceviche. He tells her a story about all his female cousins dragging him into the kitchen to help them cook even when he'd argue he caught the fish so his job was done. It looks like getting bossed around by girls paid off.

"Kaylie, I said dice the tomato, not torture it." Nicky winces, not even joking. "What happened to your cooking skills from Barcelona?"

"What? Abuela never really let me use knives."

"And I can see why."

She's ready to make a comment when she feels him come up right behind her and loses whatever thought she had. He lines up his body with hers and laughs in her ear that she's going to lose a finger if she keeps doing what she's doing. He uses his careful pianist hands, slowly repositions hers and guides her through the correct way to slice and dice.

"Kaylie?" His hips press tight up behind her and Kaylie suspects she's already blushing.

"Yeah?"

"On Valentine's, when we stopped on the road, I meant what I said. I'm going through a lot right now, but I always think about you and us when it I make decisions. There won't ever come a time where you aren't important to me. I just want you to know that."

"I do." Kaylie _wants_ to believe it more than she actually does, but then Nicky nuzzles his face against her hair, making this insanely sexy sound before he kisses her behind her ear. Seeing and feeling Nicky take the initiative makes her believe a little more.

Kaylie tries to turn to face him, but Nicky has his arms around her waist. He kisses that same spot again and his lips move down her neck. Kaylie presses her lips together before she does something super embarrassing like squeal and just enjoys it.

"Nicky, I—"

But before she can finish her sentence, he turns her to face him and presses his lips to hers. When he squeezes her hips, she parts her lips, wholly surrendering. Kaylie pushes all rational thought aside and kisses her boyfriend because nothing else is as simple as this.

…

Ever since Valentine's Day, Emily has been extra paranoid.

She's afraid she'll run into Damon every time she leaves the house. Though Kaylie made a valiant attempt to argue the idea of her and Damon reuniting and living happily ever after, Emily is less convinced. Damon left her once and she can't go through that again.

"Ray, I'm really tired," Emily says, fixing her phone against her ear. She's stretched out across her bed with Brian on the other side of the room at his desk. "I'm totally about to crash."

"Em, real quick, have a conversation with your brother. You don't even have to talk. You don't even have to listen! Just have to let me rant, mumble some mhmm's and that's good enough for me. I know I take care of my hair, but I'm not _that_ high-maintenance. Please?"

Emily groans. How is she supposed to resist a Razor pitch and with a please attached?

"Henley didn't want to play therapist with you?"

"You kidding? She'd charge me." Razor chuckles. "Henley's in Montana anyways."

"Montana?"

"Yeah, she decided to visit dad," he explains. "Her fancy smancy private school is weird so they're already on spring break, but we aren't talking about Henley here. This is about me."

Emily rolls over onto her back, too tired to argue. "Fine, Ray, what is it?"

"Jody cheated on me with my best friend."

It isn't so much what he's saying, but how he says it, the tremor in his throat that tugs at Emily's heart. She sits up so quick her head spins a little and Brian looks over, asking if everything is okay. Emily gives her little brother a nod of reassurance and sits back against the headboard, cradling the phone to her ear.

"With who?"

"One of my best friends, Em. My bandmate, my buddy, Bats! He's only the drummer of the best high school basement band formerly known as the Sheltered Pups. Bat! His real name is Barnard, which is a horrible name for a human child, even worse than _Raymond_, but we all call him Bats because, one, in the third grade he came to school for an entire month straight, wearing a Batman costume and it wasn't even October. Oh, and also because he smokes so much pot his brain is scrambled, y'know, batshit. Dude, he hooked up with my girlfriend!"

"Wait, Ray, slow down," Emily says. "When did this happen?"

Pause.

"Christmas."

Emily collapses onto her back. "And were you together then?"

"…No."

"Razor…"

"Emily," he sings back. Actually sings. It's nice, makes her smile a little. "It was horrible! Bats was high—nothing new there—and the kid just starts crying his eyes out over calzones, apologizing to me for making out with Jody at the annual Christmas tree sale while they were in the dugout, smoking and singing the Victorious theme song because apparently that's a show or something that they watch together when she babysits his kid sister!"

"Are they dating now?"

"No, they pretend like it didn't happen, which makes me even angrier because it took a copious amount of weed for my band brother to come clean to me and Jody probably wouldn't ever tell me even when we made out at a party about a month ago. No, she didn't think it was important to tell me even then. Right when you think you know a person, huh?"

"I know the feeling. What are you going to do? Write sad songs and eat pizza in your bed?"

"Probably," Razor says, laughs a little, and Emily's happy she can at least do that much for him. "This bites. I don't even have anyone to tough it out with me. You and Lo are in Colorado and Damon is who-knows-where."

"Damon is here. Well, he's in Denver, but close enough."

"Colorado? Damon Young?"

"Shocking," Emily says flatly. "Something to do with his record label."

"Damon in Colorado? That's weird, but I'm not that surprised he didn't tell me. After all, Jody heard from him before me. I gave him an earful, _an earful_ about how he abandoned me and left me with Bats who's breaking bro code and this hot girl is taking her clothes off for me and I can't touch her because she's in Color—age…er."

"Lo took her clothes off for you?"

Brian looks to Emily from over his shoulder and she throws a pillow at him.

"Maybe," Razor teeters. "Wait, why don't you sound surprised?"

"Because I'm not." Emily giggles. "Texts from you make her day, you know?"

"The feeling's pretty mutual, but what does this even mean, right? Just because we text every day doesn't make it a relationship," Razor says pointedly. At least he's being realistic about it and not fantasizing away. Him and Lauren have that in common.

"At least you two make it a point to keep in touch. It means you care about her just as much as she cares about you. And that, stepbro, sounds like something worth holding on to."

Even though she can't see him, for some reason Emily's sure he's smiling. Curling a lock of her dark hair around her finger, she thinks about the conversation she had with Kaylie earlier. Now she's rooting for Razor and Lauren. Damn. Maybe she is a hopeless romantic.

"Hey, thanks, Em. I really needed this. The house got crazy lame when you left," Razor says. Yeah, Emily misses him too. "I guess I made this conversation enough about me. I'm guessing you knowing Damon's exact location means you've been talking? Have you seen him around?"

"No and I'm praying I don't. It's like, right when I think I'm over him…this happens."

"I am right in that boat with you, stepsis. What's it like in Colorado? Maybe I'll transfer out."

"Four months before graduation?"

"Four months is a long time," Razor argues. "It'd be fun. I could get a job at this lovely Pizza Shack establishment you're always gushing about. Lauren and I can save the texts and have some actual face-to-face time. Then, apparently, grandpa's got a setup in Denver and I'm going to work for him right after I graduate anyways…"

"I know we're playing utopia fantasy here, but Ray, you need to be good to Lauren," Emily says. "Please don't lead her on because that isn't going to work out well for any of us."

"You said it yourself, I care about her. I'm not leading anyone on. If anything, I'm just hoping this is as real as I want it to be. You know me, Em. Heart on my sleeve."

Razor sounds so cute and hopeful talking about Lauren, but she can't ignore the fact that Jody was the main point of this phone call. Maybe it's just Rodge in her head and how those freaky eyes all over Boulder make her think of him and of Gatsby and of life paralleling reality. Whatever the reason, it dawns on her that Razor is fickle like every other boy, like Romeo. Hopefully things work out better for Razor than the boy in the play.

"It's good to hear that some things never change," Emily says warmly. "And I'm sure the only reason Bats even told you is because he really cares about you and being honest with you and Jody…well, I'm not the best with advice when it comes to exes."

"Don't worry about it. Having someone willing to listen is good enough, especially since Dave is out of town. It's just me and mom and Dex home and neither of them are keen on conversing with Ray."

"Aw, how is the pup?"

"Growing," Razor says. "I'll send you pics."

A dorm slams and it draws both Emily and Brian's attention.

"Ray, I gotta go," Emily says, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "But this was nice. We should talk more often."

"For sure," Razor agrees. "Take care, Em. Kiss Lauren for me."

"You can do that when you transfer here," Emily jokes. "Before you even consider talking to your mom about it and making her freak out, remember there are no beaches in Colorado."

"Bummer! Em, it's like you just took a sharp stick and stabbed me in the heart. The heart on my sleeve… But you have lakes and stuff. Wakeboarding could be fun."

Emily laughs, wishing she had that kind of optimism. "Bye, Ray."

"Goodnight, sis."

Emily reluctantly ends the call and goes to the door, about to call out to Chloe.

"I cannot believe I had to leave work to pick you up because you got thrown out of another bar! That means I don't get paid for the hours I'm missing and that's money we need, Bruce!"

"Chloe, don't me mad."

"I'm not mad! Just…disappointed."

"I'm sorry. You know I'm sorry. Baby, I'm sorry."

"Bruce, just stop."

"No, you're angry at me 'n I don't want yous to be angry."

"We can talk about this after you sleep it off."

"Chloe, I love you."

"Bruce, we can't keep doing this. I'm barely holding on here and we have the kids to think about and it feels like everything is falling apart around us."

"It don't matter 'cause we have each other. We can make it. I love you."

"I love you too."

Maybe it's everything that's been going on with her lately, how she's wrapped up in negative energy, but when she hears such submission, Emily snaps. She throws the bedroom door the rest of the way open and ignores Brian shouting after her, asking what she's doing.

"Mom, don't tell me you're just going to let him get away with this!" Emily screams. Chloe holds up Bruce, who can barely stand on his own. Bruce's face darkens the way it always does when Emily and him are in the same room. Chloe has an apology spelled out across her face.

"Emily, not now," Chloe says. "Go back to your room."

"Mom, this is ridiculous! He's drunk and you're acting like it's okay!"

"Emily, I know it isn't okay, but this isn't the time to talk about it either."

"But tomorrow you're just going to act like it never happened! You always do! I can't take this anymore! He doesn't love you!" Emily shouts. Really, who is she to say who's entitled to love and who isn't, but Emily is done being agreeable. She's going to say what she thinks. "This whole relationship is toxic. It's cancer. It's killing all of us and you're too blinded to see it!"

"_You_." Bruce growls, shoves Chloe away and stomps towards Emily.

"Bruce, calm down!" Chloe calls. "She doesn't know what she's talking about…"

Chloe reaches out for him, but Bruce pushes her hands away. "Over and over I tell you to learn some respect, but you never listen, do you? Dissing me is one thing, but your mother? Our relationship? I've had enough of you thinkin' you have some right to run your mouth!"

"Why do you act like you have any authority here?" Emily goes on. Once you light a fuse, it's going to burn until it explodes. "You're a sad old man living a sad life where you don't work, just drink and do drugs. You're just using my mom and my brother! You make me sick."

Bruce lunges, but Chloe pulls him back by his shirt.

"Emily, that's enough."

"I can't believe you," Emily says. "Why are you doing this to us, mom? Why are you doing this to yourself? Do you really think he loves you? Love is just an illusion. It isn't real! It's a nice idea people use to manipulate and use other people. Bruce already left you once. Would it be so bad if he left you again? If you think so, you're just as sad as him."

"Emily, stop it right now!" Chloe shouts, tears in her eyes.

"I'm just giving you a much needed reality check! He doesn't love you! Brian and I, we—"

_Slap_.

Emily's entire face jerks to the side from the impact and she feels the pain buzz all throughout her cheek, eyes fully glazing with tears. Bruce makes this disgustingly smug sound and Chloe gasps in horror, bringing her hands up in front of her as if she can't believe she just did that.

"Em…Emily…"

Shifting her jaw from side to side, Emily sprints for her room just as the tears break and slide down her cheeks. Brian is behind her, stunned, and Emily bypasses him, hanging her head. Emily grabs her backpack and a duffle, furiously shoving articles of clothing inside. She hears Chloe's heels thunder against the floor, about to confront her, and Emily zips up her bag, grabs both her phones and runs back out, knocking past Chloe as she heads to the door.

"Emily, where do you think you're going?"

She doesn't even bother answering as she throws the front door open and heads out, running on adrenaline, taking the stairs. She calls Lauren and, of course, Lauren agrees to pick her up without even needing an explanation. All Lauren needs is the sound of Emily's broken voice and says she's on her way. It's late and dark out, but Emily is furious and fearless in the moment. Right as she pushes the lobby door open, Emily runs right into someone.

"What the hell, Colorado!"

Emily stumbles back a step and wipes the tears away with her sleeve. "Henley?"

"1969 Pacific Ridge Avenue, Boulder, Colorado, 80330," Henley says, as if reading it off a paper, but no, it's written in her memory. "The least you could have done is answer my calls so you could warn me how cold it is here."

Though she sounds like normal, blunt Henley, something isn't right. She fidgets and doesn't look like she's been sleeping. Without another thought, Emily hugs the tall, pale girl with the long brown hair. When their bodies collide, Emily bursts into tears of frustration because hearing Henley complain and try to pry her off means this isn't another nightmare. It's real.

…

_Nicky, if you don't get it together you're going to lose her. _

_I told you. I'm going to win Kelly's trust back. It'll take time, but I will. _

_I was talking about Kaylie. _

Payson stares at her phone for a second before shoving it into her jacket pocket and turning her attention to MJ Martin. Besides being gorgeous, MJ has such charm and confidence. She really seems to know what she's talking about, which satisfies Kim, and MJ gets bonus points for laughing at Mark's jokes. Contracts are signed at the end of the meeting and Payson Keeler, arguably one of the most coveted gymnasts in the business, has a manager.

From the meeting, Mark has to go straight to the airport, back on the road for work. Kim and Becca tears up as they say their goodbyes in the parking lot. Mark kisses Payson's forehead and tells her to take care of her mom and sister. Payson agrees and takes it to heart.

Right when Kim is about to drive Mark to the airport, Faith comes barreling into the parking lot, wanting her grand goodbye. Mark jokes that the next time he's in town, if Faith is too, they should re-take their annual Keeler Family pictures and include her. In return, Faith jokes that she'll dye her hair blonde just for the occasion. As they drive away, Faith drags Becca into a hug, sensing she needs it, and Payson doesn't move until their family car is out of sight.

As much as Payson wants to spend her downtime hanging out with Faith in the observation room, she forces herself to spend some time with the team that she's supposed to be leading.

"Faith something," Violet says. "I heard she got caught shoving her finger down her throat at gymnastics camp last summer and she was going around telling people the staff made her do it so they paid her off to retire."

Payson's eye twitches at the very thought.

Scarlet's laugh is a nasty sound. "I heard something about fingers, but not down her throat."

"Scarlet, watch it," Violet scolds, laughingly. "She's friends with our captain." Payson looks up from the empty inbox of her phone. Nicky didn't text her back. Scarlet lifts a penciled-in eyebrow and Violet says, "Why else do you think she's here?"

"She seems to know Austin and Conrad," Scarlet says. "Probably sleeping with them both."

Payson is relieved to hear that second part. At least no one is suspicious of her and Austin. As far as Payson's concerned, she's happy to let Faith play red herring.

"If you're done, we should get out there," Payson says. Morning conditioning with the team is the last thing she wants to do, but the sooner they get through the aching repetition the sooner they can hit the apparatus. "Let the countdown to the Boston meet begin."

"We're going to smoke them!" Violet cheers.

"Rule one. Never underestimate the competition." Payson feels a wince, remembering who instilled that golden rule in her competition mentality—Marty.

"Especially Tricia Skilken," Scarlet adds. "Hell hath no fury like a whore scorned."

Payson walks out of the locker room ahead of the others. The more distance the better. Maybe they really are nice girls underneath, but the things they say grind her gears. One of the things she misses most about summer is getting to train with gymnasts she respects.

The day drags on and Payson can see Faith getting antsy. She ends up hanging out in the office with Kim and talking like old friends. When the day starts to wind down, Payson finally gets some time to hang out with Faith.

"You should have printed out a picture from the internet like I told you!" Faith yells at the door marked with the figure of a man. "Austin, if you're going to shave anything into his head I say you make it the Faithism mandate!"

"Faithism mandate?"

"Live every day like it's Faith's birthday. Party like it's my birthday," Faith rap-sings in a deep voice, nodding her head as she hums. "I don't remember the rest, but we could have—"

"AUSTIN, GET AWAY FROM ME WITH THAT THING!"

"DUDE, I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!"

There's buzzing and Conrad whining like a hound dog. Payson smiles. Those are her boys.

"Hey!" Faith shouts at the door. "No having fun without me and Payson! Stop trying to figure out how boys have sex and get it done!"

Leaning back against the hallway wall, Payson checks her phone again, still no reply from Nicky. Payson doesn't even know why she keeps checking.

"So," Payson says, "My teammates think you're bulimic and a money hungry sexual deviant. Apparently, that's how they're explaining your retirement."

"At least they're half right." Faith gives her an impish wink. "Did you correct them?"

"Nope," Payson answers. "Your life is none of their business."

"Payson Keeler, my superhero. I almost wish you told them the truth. At least then I could blame the inadequate sex education in our schools or how I'm sure parental fear of talking about sex with kids is directly linked to high teen preggers rates. Eating disorders is a whole other ballgame. A gymnast doesn't starve herself to look good for her boyfriend or to look how society tells us girls should look. A gymnast does it because she wants her dream so bad she lets the want consumer her. That right there is a whole other level of darkness."

Payson tilts her head, thinking of Maeve Benson and other girls she knew in the past who let the darkness consume them. It makes her sad that she can count so many in her head.

Out of the blue, Austin bursts through the doors, looking rather pleased. "Attention! Introducing G.I. Conman!" The girls wait in anticipation, but no one comes out. Austin slams a closed fist against the bathroom door so it swings open. "Conrad, get out here!"

Conrad peeking an eye out through the crack in the door, shy like a kindergartener on the first day of school. When he finally comes out, his hair is high and tight cut. The hair on the sides and the back is buzzed very close with a slightly longer top portion made neat and even.

"Oh, God, I just fell out of love," Faith says. When Conrad tries to retreat back into the bathroom, Austin doesn't let him. "I'm kidding, Cupcake! Hottest jarhead I ever did see!"

"You look great, Con," Payson assures him.

"I hope so," Conrad says, self-consciously rubbing his hand from the back of his head down to his cheeks that are still scruffy. "No thanks to Austin. He near shaved my ear off!"

"Your ear's fine, but it is more noticeable how gigantic they are. Damn, Dumbo," Austin says, playfully tugging on Conrad's large ears. Payson's never really noticed until now.

That's when the door to the women's bathroom swings open and out comes Lauren with freshly glossed lips. Payson thinks Faith and Lauren mingling went better than expected. Though she knows Lauren and Faith aren't going to hang out it's nice that they're civil.

"Hey, Cowboy," Lauren says flirtatiously. "What happened? Did you try to cut your own hair?"

"Worse. I let Austin do it."

Conrad bashfully curls his shoulders in on himself, touching his head. Payson elbows Lauren who says, "What? With his abs, no one's going to care what's happening on top when you've got it going on down south."

That gets Conrad smiling, showing off his pearly whites.

Austin clicks his tongue. "And you wondered why I warned you to stay away from that one?"

"Stone cold fox." Faith winks at Lauren.

"Anyways, it's been fun, but I should get home," Lauren says. "School tomorrow."

"I'll walk you out," Payson says. After waving goodbye, Lauren and Payson head for the door. Once they're out in the parking lot, Payson asks, "When did you see Conrad's abs?"

"So Nicky and Kelly Parker were like, friends with benefits?"

It's just like Lauren to get straight to business. Payson keeps her mouth shut. She's going to thump Austin later for bringing it up. Lauren stares at her expectantly and Payson knows she won't stop prying until they address it.

"Yes," Payson says. "And before you jump all over me for knowing and not telling Kaylie, this was _way_ before Kaylie met him. And it isn't my place to butt into their relationship."

"It isn't? But it was Kaylie's place to tell you about the Kelly Parker pictures?"

"Those are completely different situations! Every second those pictures were online it was hurting Kelly's _gymnastics career_, what we've been working towards since we were kids. What's the point of Kaylie know Nicky and Kelly sleep together? I don't want a list of girls Austin's been with and I'm sure you don't want to hear about who AJ's been with or that Razor guy you like. If anything, telling Kaylie is going to make her feel even more insecure and inadequate and Kaylie, who's prone to doubting herself like that, doesn't need it."

"But we're Kaylie's friends," Lauren argues. "Friends don't keep things like this from friends, especially with the way Nicky is apparently trying to be _friends_ with Kelly again. Payson, the longer they're together, the harder Kaylie's going to fall for him and she'll feel like an even bigger idiot when he cheats on her with Kelly Parker."

"Nicky won't."

"He's a guy. Nice to look at and fun to be around, but they do stupid things like cheat."

Payson groans. "Then you really aren't going to like what I did this morning."

"What?" Lauren demands and so Payson tells her about their run and how she texted Nicky.

"What are you doing, Pay?" Lauren asks. "One day you're pushing him to Kelly and the next you're pushing him to Kaylie? This is asking for some sort of wacked out Tree Hill brand love triangle. I'd be impressed if our best friend wasn't one of the pawns in your little game."

"It's not a game. It's not like I'm trying to be manipulative for fun. Everyone, including Kaylie, thinks I'm siding with Kelly, but I'm not. I'm Kaylie's friend too. I can be friends with both. Is it so crazy to think that Nicky can be friends with Kelly and date Kaylie at the same time?"

"Yes, Pay, it is," Lauren says. "Because sex changes everything about a relationship. It sets the tone or changes it and nothing is ever the same after. Trust me. I'd know." She pauses, hesitates and lowers her voice. "It's why I can't be within fifty feet of Carter without feeling queasy and…why I won't ever be able to get AJ out of my head."

Instead of firing off at her, Payson allows for a moment of quiet, of respect. Sighing, she asks, "So what am I supposed to do, Lauren?"

"Stop texting Nicky, obviously," Lauren says, "and just watch where the pieces fall."

Payson feels helpless in this particular situation and she hates it.

"Are you going to tell Kaylie about Nicky and Kelly?" Payson asks. "If you do, that's fine, it's your decision and I can't stop you, but I can't be apart of it either. I know you don't like it, but Kelly is as much my friend as Kaylie."

"Okay, I love you, Pay, but you really need to check your loyalties here," Lauren says. It's ironic that Lauren Tanner is lecturing her about loyalty. "The four of us, we've been best friends, _sisters_, since before we were born."

Payson knows that's the truth and it will never stop being true or important to her; however, she also thinks about waking up in a hospital bed in Texas and seeing Kelly asleep at her bedside. That summer Kelly Parker broke along side her and something about that, how they made it through together and how they're going to the Olympics together, goes deeper than any of them expected it to. Payson doesn't say anything and Lauren huffs exasperatedly.

"You're right," Lauren says. "Telling Kaylie is just going to mess with her head, but at the same time not telling her is going to mess with our friendship. I don't know what to do, but you'll be the first to hear when I figure it out." Payson is silent, knowing how Lauren can be erratic in her actions. "Pay, you know me calling you Supergirl is just a cute nickname, right? No one expects you to actually do the right thing all the time and save the world."

Lauren hugs Payson before getting into her car and driving away. Payson goes back inside, but her level of happiness doesn't quite match Faith and the boys. It doesn't make her feel better to hear Scarlet and Violet bickering. On top of everything, Sasha is acting weird around her, intensified now that Lauren so blatantly pointed it out, but that's one thing Payson can fix.

_Knock. Knock._

"Come in."

"Hi," Payson says, popping her head into Sasha's office.

There it is again. The strange, alarmed expression. "Hello, Payson. What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to ask…what's going on? Did I do something wrong?" she asks. "I think we both know things have been weird for the past few days and I was just wondering if I did something or didn't do something…"

"Payson, take a seat." Sasha motions to the chairs in front of his desk and she does as he says. "You do recall that the Rock has a no dating rule, correct?"

Payson's heart sinks. Oh crap. They're busted.

"Y—yes."

"And you know why I issued it, don't you?"

"To eliminate any and all distractions."

"Exactly." Sasha leans back in his leather seat, looking down at his desk. He makes talking seem so painful. "And what exactly is your relationship to Austin Tucker?"

Payson squeezes her hands around the arms of the chair. So, _so_ busted.

"We, um, we're friends."

Sasha hums like he knows something and strokes his fingertips across the scratchy little hairs on his chin. "Back in my day friends didn't kiss friends out in the lot."

Payson slides down in her chair, feeling so small. He's Sasha Belov, a legend. He trusts her and she trusts him. The bond between coach and gymnast is unlike any other. The realization that she betrayed him, going against his rules, isn't something Payson is proud of even if her relationship with Austin is worth the way he's judging her right now.

Terrified of what this will do to her relationship with Sasha and everyone in the gym, Payson says the first thing that comes to her. "Please don't tell my mom."

Sasha slouched so they're nearly eyelevel. "So what's going on? And I'd prefer the truth."

"Nothing," Payson says, because, yes, to some extent, it's the truth. "We're just…we like each other, but we both agreed that our whatever-we-are isn't going to interfere with our gymnastics. We both agreed that nothing serious is going to happen before the Olympics."

"Payson." Sasha sighs. She hates the way he's looking at her. Prior, Sasha always regarded her with the utmost respect and now he's looking at her like she's a silly little girl with a grade school crush. "Is that what he told you? He's Austin Tucker. We all know what he's like."

Something about that rubs Payson the wrong way. She sits up and now, having heard the words straight from his mouth, changes the way she sees him. Payson hates the way they're judged on persona, the image commoditize for the world to buy. Payson knows firsthand that Austin isn't the guy the media makes him out to be and she expected more from Sasha.

"With all due respect, Sasha, if you really mean that then you don't know him. There's more to him than his bad boy of gymnastics image. I thought you of all people would understand that."

Sasha looks away for a moment and Payson knows she hit the right button. He laces his fingers and gives her a hard stare, leaning over his desk. Payson looks into his dazzling blue eyes and though she expected judgment, she's met with something like agreement.

"Okay," Sasha says. "I'm going to need you two to be more discrete. No more PDA in the gym, outside, in public in general. You can pass that along to Austin. I personally think it would be wise to tell your mother, but rest assured, if she finds out it won't be from me."

Payson slowly lets out a breath. "So what's my punishment?"

"I can't exactly demand you break up with him if you aren't dating now can I?" Sasha says. There's something of twinkle in his eye. "Consider this your warning."

"Thank you, Sasha. So this mean there won't be any more weirdness, right?"

He gives her a nod and a silent promise that he'll make the effort. Payson walks out of the office, feeling lighter than she did coming out of that parking lot conversation with Lauren.

"Everything okay?" Faith asks. She's on the side, only in these socks with yellow stripes and a green blushing frog design over the toes, as Becca prances around in her Italian leather boots. As she sits next to her, Faith can tell Payson doesn't want to talk about it and quickly says, "Pace, I might have accidentally told Becks about your girl moving in on Becca's man."

"What?"

"Lauren," Becca says. Faith's boots only look to be about a size or two bigger. Despite this, Becca takes a moment to admire how they look on her feet.

"Lo isn't moving in on anyone," Payson reassures her.

"You never know. I saw the Livestream," Becca pipes in.

Faith giggles. "Who didn't?"

"Okay. We're out of here." Payson motions for Faith to get her boots back on. "Becks, I'm going with Faith. You'll remind mom for me, right?"

"Sure."

Once Faith is back in her boots, they leave the gym in Kelly's car and head to the lake house. It's beautiful and modern with plate glass that stretches from the ceiling to the floor and only a short walking distance to a little dock on the lake. It's basically a giant playground with X-Box controllers and games scattered all around the living room in front of the flatscreen, along with Nerf guns, footballs, basketballs and even a hoop hanging from the second landing.

As Austin works his magic in the kitchen, Faith and Payson sit together out on the back patio, sharing one of the couches that surround the firepit with a thick blanket thrown over them. It isn't too cold out, just a little chilly, but it's nice and relaxing after a tiresome day in the gym.

"I think if they got to know each other, Uncle Mark would like Austin. They can cook meat and other manly things together." Faith giggles. "I don't know how open your dad'll be to you dating Aus, but I think if you introduce him to the family and let them see how you two are together and ease into it then it'll be cake."

"It's just weird. I never had to think about any of this before."

"Falling in love is the easy part," Faith says. "Figuring out all the shiz that comes with it—not so much…or so I'd assume. I know I threw the words around a lot with Charlie, but looking back on it, no. My first love isn't going to be a guy who didn't respect me enough to let me have a say in my own decisions. I want my first to be mutual. I think we can put the ol' Smolderetti in the infatuation box. It's a steadily growing population."

"That would make Conrad mayor of the infatuation box," Payson teases, making Faith giggle through her sad recollection. "Speaking of, where did he go?"

"Probably showing _Ava_ his new haircut in secret."

"Ava?"

"Tucker," Faith answers. "Austin's sister?"

"Ah, the sister Austin only ever mentions briefly and never by name?"

"That's the one. Austin never talks to me about her either," Faith says. "They've never met in real life, Conrad and Ava, but they talk online. It's so innocent. Cute. And don't tell Aus because he'll go all Big Brother and ruin it. If you think he's protective of Kelly and raps on Nicky, he'd probably rip Conrad's spine straight out like in Predators."

"I don't know what that means."

"Stop being so cute."

"Conrad and Ava?" Payson asks. "What about Jackie Nevada?"

"Who the hell is Jackie Nevada?"

The glass door slides open and their army bound boy crawls under the blanket covering the two girls and squishes his way between them. Once comfortable, his long arms stretched out along the back of the couch behind them, Conrad says, "You ladies care to share a fine evening with me under the stars?"

"Well," Faith says snootily, "Payson and I were having an intimate moment, sharing a blanket and feelings, then you came over and ruined it like a giant human cockblock!"

"That's unfortunate. Faith, you know you're my girl, but Austin is my bro and Payson and him got this cute little setup and, well, I live in the guy's house. I gotta look out for him, _especially_ when the cute little bisexual one comes flirting along, sharing a blanket with his girl."

Faith starts hitting him and Conrad bursts with laughter. "Whoa now, settle down! I won't tell Austin about this one time. Mind if I watch? I should probably take notes."

"You're such a tool. It isn't fair such a sexist tool is so cute," Faith grumbles. When she gets bored with hitting him, Faith leans into Conrad and he wraps his arm around her. "Actually, Connie, I was just telling Payson about your emotional involvement with Austin's sister."

Conrad suddenly straightens and looks back over to the house where Austin is cooking inside.

"Dang, girl, don't even," Conrad warns. Faith and even Payson laugh. "At least be quiet about it. We don't need the details of my love life echoing across the lake."

"Love life?" Payson asks. "How emotionally involved are we talking?"

"Puppy love," Faith teases. "Payson, they fall asleep on Skype together."

"Breaking news: I care if she lives or dies," Conrad says. "So we talk n' stuff." He nods to Payson. "Ava asks about you a lot. I tell her the truth. You're way too good for her brother."

Though he's obviously joking, there's this protective edge to his voice. Austin is the same towards Faith and Kelly. It's nice to know someone has her back like this.

"Aw, Con, as if you don't love Austin," Faith teases. "How badly are you going to miss him?"

Conrad clutches his chest. "Like my heart forgets to beat when we're apart too long."

"Boys who aren't afraid to admit they love their boys. How precious is that?" Faith coos.

"You romanticizing my life, now that's precious." Conrad ruffles Faith's hair and she shakes with laughter, trying to get away from him. "You make it sound like I live a soap opera."

"You do!" Faith insists. "The mysterious thing with Kelly, the online affair with Ava, shameless flirting with Lauren Tanner, burning CDs for Emily Kmetko and whatever a Jackie Nevada is."

"She's a she, not a whatever," Conrad says defensively. "That's the love of my life you're talking about. Have some respect, Tiny."

"Who you callin' _Tiny_?"

"Have you told her you're enlisting yet?" Payson asks. "Jackie."

Conrad turns away and his expression goes steely. That's a no.

"Do you have a picture?" Faith asks. Payson lightly slaps her arm. "What? I need proof this is a real person and not a sad attempt to distract me from asking about him and Kelly."

Conrad laughs at Faith's serious face. "Pay, your girl asks me this _all the time_."

"And all the time you give me that cute smile and tell me you don't kiss and tell," Faith says. That's news to Payson. "Conrad, you may be my boy and Austin may be your bro, but Kelly Parker is my _soul mate_. We're inevitably going to grow up and marry hot guys or whoever and have super hot kids and they're all going to have to deal with the fact that Kelly and me are forever. So I _need_ to know because I'm nosy and also because she's the love of my life."

Faith and her rambling honesty is one of her most endearing qualities. Her cards are always on the table…minus the sneaky one she keeps up her sleeve.

"I didn't get none of that," Conrad says. "Pay, did you get what she's going on about? I swear girlfriend was talking a different language at one point." Conrad yanks his phone out of the breast pocket of his flannel shirt and pulls up a photo. "Yes, Jackie Nevada is a real girl."

Faith gasps dramatically and steals his phone away for a better look. Payson leans over her shoulder, just as curious. The girl in the photo, wrapped up in Conrad's arms is downright _hot_. Full figured with glossy brown hair, big brown eyes and a little pink mouth, wearing flannel and cowboy boots. Payson can't help, but notice how happy they look together.

"She is hot!" Faith shouts. "And has boobs! How much did you pay her to pose for this?"

"Hey, I got some game. Copyright Conrad Cooper charm," Conrad says. "Jackie and I met the summer I tore my ACL and stayed with my brother, retired physical therapist gone farmer. She's from Kentucky, but she'd spend summers on her aunt's farm in Texas, right across from my brother's. She was something else. That girl wrote her name on my heart and my shoe."

Conrad shows them the bottom of his boot, where _Jackie_ is written, faded, but enduring.

"Where is she now?" Payson asks.

"University of Colorado Boulder," he replies. "As stupid as it probably is, Jackie being here might have something to do with why I agreed to train with Marty and move to Denver."

"When's the last time you saw her?" Faith asks.

"Last summer back in Texas."

"Conrad!" Faith shouts and shakes his arm.

"What? We were never boyfriend-girlfriend. We'd just spend summers together. I was always busy with gymnastics and she had her own life back in Kentucky so we kept it simple. Now I hear she joined a sorority and dates Omega Delta Pie douche bags."

"And you aren't going to tell the love of your life that you enlisted in the army?" Payson asks.

"Probably not."

"Why?"

"She's the only one who can make him stay," Faith says. "Ultimately betraying his country."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't give Austin any ideas," Conrad says. "I like him better when he thinks I'm getting over Jackie and that setting me up with Kelly Parker is a good idea."

"So if you're still hung up on this Jackie Nevada chick, what happened with you and Kelly?" Faith asks. "Call my Kelly a rebound and say goodbye to your pretty face, Cupcake. If you don't give me answers I will not hesitate to tell Austin that you're long distant seducing his—"

"Fine!" Conrad gives in. "I'd say more than anything I ever did with either of you, but a lot less than Jackie, who took my virginity in a barn."

Faith grumbles. "Dude, that's like saying it's a number between negative-seven and infinity!"

"That's the point." He grins. "I'd gladly tell you, but I promised Kelly I wouldn't. Honestly, it was pretty embarrassing for the both of us. She obviously wasn't over Jerk-Off and I'm obviously not over Jackie." Payson sympathetically hugs his arm and even Faith frowns. "Now, Faye, I love you, I do, but if you keep bugging me about Kelly Parker, I'll tell Aus what happened to his autographed Burt Hurst Sox card."

"Conrad! You promised you wouldn't! It was an accident!"

"Those sound like fighting words, darling."

Both Faith and Conrad eye a water gun on the nearby table. They both lunge for it. When Faith beats him to it, Conrad runs towards the house. Faith chases him inside and Payson laughs when she hears Austin yell at them. Payson goes inside to make sure no one actually kills anyone, avoiding puddles as she does. When she walks into the kitchen, which smells amazing, Payson can't help, but laugh at Austin, a streak of water soaked into his gray t-shirt.

"Casualty in the war of the water guns?" Payson teases him.

"Oh, you could tell?" Austin swipes his fingers through his dark hair and wipes the back of his hand across his face. "But at least she let me know that she didn't mean to get me and it wasn't her fault Conrad wouldn't keep still."

"But even if Conrad wasn't in the equation, it's Faith," Payson says, looking through the little window in the oven and whatever Austin has cooking in there. "Nothing is ever Faith's fault."

"True." Austin gives her a sly smile and reaches out for her. Instinctively, Payson moves towards him, but then frowns at his wet shirt. "I can take care of that," Austin murmurs, reaching for the edge and pulling the thin, stretched material up halfway, but Payson stops him and fixes it back down. "What? Keeler, I'm gonna catch a cold."

"You're telling me that your health depends on you wearing a shirt or not?" Austin nods yes and Payson shakes her head no. "You really are one of those guys who takes off their shirts at every opportunity, aren't you?"

"I don't understand why that's a bad thing. Well, I'm sorry, Pay, I like you a lot, but don't think this is going to be one of those relationships where you're going to come in and I'm going to change everything about my life because you let me kiss you."

"Wow. When you said you were devout to Faithism you weren't joking, were you?" Payson smiles at his little self-assured rant. He still has his arms crossed, fingers curled under the edge of his shirt and Payson relents. "Fine, Austin, you can take your shirt off."

"I love that you respect my wants." Austin pulls his shirt off and wipes his face with it. Because she's only human, Payson stares at his hard, tan abdomen, but only briefly. Watching her, Austin whispers, "You can look if you want."

"How are you so good at that?"

"Walking around shirtless?" Austin asks. "Kinda like my God-given talent, I guess. I always say, hey, if gymnastics doesn't pan out, there's always modeling. That's doable."

"I mean, how are you so open all the time? I don't know if I could ever, but apparently, I'm supposed to if I want my career to go anywhere. At least, that's what MJ says."

"Walking around shirtless?" Austin asks. Payson wrinkles her nose and hits his bicep with the heel of her palm. "It's all about thinking you're the coolest person in the room, which you are, knowing that you're a badass, which you should, and owning it. Confidence, which you have, especially when you're in gymnastics mode, just turn down the focused and let them see you or the you that they want to see."

Payson twists her fingers together, not exactly secure in her ability with this aspect of her sport, the surface part and essentially selling herself to the world. "You really think I can?"

"Keeler, I just called you the coolest person in the room and _I'm_ in the room."

When Payson tries to hit him again, Austin pulls her in closer. His face softens and he looks as close to serious as Austin Tucker will ever be. "Listen, about earlier, dropping the KP and Jerk-Off bomb in front of your friend, I—"

"Nope," Payson says. "Put your shirt back on."

"What? Why?"

Payson pushes him away from her. "I'm not talking to you about _Nicky _and Kelly and serious things while you're not wearing a shirt."

"Pay—"

"I love that you respect my wants," Payson says. Austin frowns at his soggy shirt and walks out. When he appears in the doorway, he's wearing a thick winter coat with a fur-lined hood. Payson's smile dissolves with her laughter. "You look ridiculous. Whose is that?"

"Don't know. It got left here at our last party. I feel like an Eskimo, but I'm respecting your wants." Austin slides down into one of the chairs at the dining room table and nudges the seat across from him, an invitation for Payson to join him and she does. "Like I was saying, I'm sorry if I let the cat out of the bag. I didn't know she didn't know."

"It's okay," Payson says. "Lauren and I talked about it in the parking lot and she wasn't happy, not at all, but you didn't know. I can't blame you for that." She turns her hand over, palm up, her own invitation, and Austin takes it, sliding his fingers through hers. "Plus, we have bigger things to worry about."

"Oh, you mean Faith trying to steal your affection? Conrad told me."

Payson tugs on his fingers, warning him that it's time to be serious. Austin doesn't tease anymore, just moves his fingers through hers. He knows.

"Austin, Sasha knows about us."

Slowly, the corners of his lips turn down and his expression drops. Payson stares at their joined hands as she tells him about their talk in the office earlier.

"You know, if Sasha did reinforce the 'no dating, no fun' rule, I'd pack up my shit and get the hell out before you'd ever have to find a new gym," Austin says. "It doesn't matter where I'd end up. I'd make sure you'd never have to leave the Rock."

"That isn't fair to you."

"It's cool. I know we're supposed to have this whole Rock family gym pride vibe, but to me it's just a place where I get to go to work on my gymnastics, hang out with my friends and see you. I could do that even without the Rock, but I know what it means to you. It's where you grew up, practically your home and I wouldn't take that away from you."

Filled with the sudden urge to, Payson leans up in her chair and kisses him because he can't say things like that, so sincere and so strong, and not expect to be kissed. As they pull away, Austin briefly presses his forehead to hers and Payson opens her eyes to see him smiling.

"Can I take this stupid coat off now?"

"Yes, Austin, you can take the stupid coat off now. Be free and shirtless."

"Thank God." Austin throws the coat off and lets it hit the ground. It's no wonder why the entire house is a mess. "So are things going to be awkward around Sasha now?"

"I hope not. I told him we aren't like a couple-couple and he took it well, I think."

"Wait, we aren't?"

Payson freezes and her eyes go wide, searching every inch of Austin's face. The disappointment in his eyes hits her hard and it freaks her out. Payson starts rambling about how they promised they'd put their careers first and while she's getting tangled up in her words, a smirk slowly makes it's way to Austin's face. When he starts laughing at how adorably frazzled she is, Payson finally realizes what he's doing.

"Gotcha, Keeler."

"That wasn't funny!" Payson scolds him, slapping his bare arm with her hand.

"It was a little," Austin says, earning another slap on the arm. "But cute, _really_ cute."

Payson pretends she isn't amused and that's when they hear a loud thud from above.

"AUSTIN, FAITH BROKE YOUR WATER BED!"

"NU-UH! IT WAS CONRAD'S BONEY ASS!"

Austin sighs and his shoulders drop, their nice little moment ruined. He tugs on Payson's hand, thinking to bring her with him. "C'mon. Dinner's got another ten minutes in the oven. Let's go see what destruction the animals caused this time."

"Remember, it's never Faith's fault even if there's a strong possibility it really is."

"I don't know about this one," Austin argues. "Conrad does have a boney ass."

"I don't even want to know how you know that."

Austin wraps his arm around Payson as they walk to the stairs.

As an afterthought, Payson asks, "You have a water bed?"

"Yes, I do or _did_ depending on what went down when we left those two alone," Austin replies. Leaning down to her, he laughs. "If we were a couple-couple, you'd know that."

And every time Payson shoves him away, Austin just laughs and pulls her closer.

…

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><p><strong>Authors' Note<strong>: A thousand apologies! We're aware this is late! We also want to point out that this is the longest chapter of the story so far. So you'll have to forgive us since this is where we **hiatus**! We aren't sure when the next chapter is going to be posted, might be next week, might be in two weeks, but we'll keep you updated via Twitter or review replies.

**Review.**

#WeFaB #LLD2 #LLDforever


	12. The Last Thing You Want Comes In First

**Warning:**The wait is over! We're back to breaking hearts.

**Reminder: **This story takes place in 2011.

* * *

><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

_All change is not growth, as all movement is not forward. – Ellen Glasgow … Where u at, L? Kinda feels like ur ignoring me…_

Lauren reads that text from Razor over and over. It kills her. Razor is too hot and too sweet to be ignored. It isn't that Lauren is ignoring him or wants to ignore him. She's just afraid she might accidentally tell him that his sister is on her couch, indulging in satellite television.

Last night, Emily was close to silent once Lauren picked them up. The one time Emily said more than "yes" or "no" was to throw in her two cents about keeping this from Razor. _It isn't your place to tell him_, Emily said, and Lauren is perceptive enough to take in her fragile state and not argue. Driving out of Laguna, the girls agreed that Henley should be the one to tell everyone about her little detour. Lauren keeps quiet more out of respect for Emily, not so much the condescending California girl who regularly refers to her as "Colorado Barbie."

Instead of entertaining Razor like she normally does, Lauren tells him to stop being paranoid and to have a good day. Luckily, Lauren has other things to keep her occupied, specifically the other guy in her life, the one she can actually go and see, reach out and touch—AJ.

On Saturday morning, Lauren leaves her room and hears the shower running. She stretches her arms up over her head as she goes to the bathroom downstairs. Lauren takes a minute to stare at her reflection, hair piled atop her head in a messy bun, barefaced. The only people in the house are Emily and Henley so Lauren doesn't mind looking the way she does.

Her next stop is the kitchen for her routine morning coffee (the automatic brewing setting is a Godsend) and then to the living room where Henley sits by herself, her long, grasshopper-like legs crossed at the ankles. Her eyes are glued to Jeopardy on TV. Alex Trebek looks sharp, tie perfectly color coordinated with his baby blues and accented by his silver hair.

"Henley," Lauren greets her. "Spending time with your boyfriend?"

"Alex Trebek? He divorced his first wife before either of us were born."

"Hmm, only someone secretly in love with him would know that," Lauren sings. "No judgment from me. You like what you like. Don't try to fight nature."

"Shh." Henley shushes the blonde, her forehead pinched with annoyance.

As Lauren sips her coffee, she can't help, but notice the dark bags beneath Henley's eyes, so deep they appear drawn in like a stick through sand. Henley had been watching TV when Lauren went to bed last night. She immediately jumps to the conclusion: Henley is weird.

One of the Jeopardy contestants requests The World at War for $200. Lauren tilts her head thoughtfully, eyes on the action. The contestant is sort of hot for a total geek.

"The Chinese Communist First Front Army staged the 6,000-mile retreat known as the Long March Under this leader."

"Who is Mao Tse-Tung," Henley says, in perfect synchronization with the geek on screen.

"Correct!"

Lauren couldn't even pay attention long enough to understand. It's all gibberish to her.

"The World at War for $600."

"In 1619, Rene Descartes went to join the army of the Duke of Bavaria during this decades-long war."

"What is the war of the roses?" the contestant guesses. Incorrect.

"What is the 30 Years war," Henley says. A moment later, the only female contestant, wearing a sickeningly ugly lime green dress, mimics Henley and Alex deems it correct.

"The World at War for $1000."

"Unprepared for this man leading an army force over the Andes in 1817, the Spanish Empire lost Chile and Argentina."

"Who is Jose de San Martin," Henley answers. Not surprising—she's correct.

"Fruit of the Klum for $200."

"Hal-oh!" Alex says, trying to imitate the blonde goddess. "Heidi Klum was born on June 1, 1873 in this country."

"Germany!" Lauren shouts. Her enthusiasm and volume, a near scream, drowns out Henley. Lauren nearly spills her coffee and she doesn't even wait for Mr. Trebek to say it's correct before she does a happy dance in her seat. Henley isn't impressed, but Lauren doesn't care. She knew an answer and it felt awesome. "You must have seen this episode before, right?"

"No," Henley replies. She's clearly annoyed and Lauren finds joy in that.

"Then how do you know all the answers?"

"I read books. And I actually go to History class. And I like the History Channel."

Lauren laughs, thinking it's a joke, but Henley doesn't find the humor in it. The girl is an alien and not a sexy Katy Perry alien, but the creepy _Fourth Kind_ species that experiment on humans to see how they tick. Lauren vaguely remembers Henley from the summer, but she mostly stayed in her room and used silence as a form of rebellion. Getting her alone, Lauren starts to see that behind the porcelain skin and high cheekbones is an extraterrestrial geek.

"I hope you two are getting along or at least pretending to." Emily walks into the room with her dark hair twisted up in a towel. She goes straight to Lauren's side before the blonde can even reach out to draw her under her arm. Though Emily didn't get much sleep either, tossing and turning on the other side of Lauren's bed, she does look somewhat refreshed.

"Hey, Em, I am convinced your stepsister's from plant weird," Lauren says. Emily attempts a smile at the 90's Disney reference, but it's weak at best. "Feeling better? Seriously, I cannot believe your mom let things get that bad at home."

Emily sighs. "I can't believe _I_ let things get that bad at home."

"Colorado, it isn't your fault. You're the kid in the situation. Parents are supposed to protect their kids. End of story." Henley talks like everything is black and white and maybe to Henley it is. "Abusive men believe violence between intimates is acceptable. It's a way of preserving status and power, male privilege and means of control. If that's the type of man your mother wants to be involved with then that's on her, but you weren't comfortable with the situation and chose to leave the environment. Good for you."

Lauren turns to Emily, whose expression is tense and off in the distance. "E.T. has a point."

"But my brother—"

"I bet he's fine. Just being a boy gives him a better chance of survival. Plus, he's a blood relative and you implied he's submissive like your mother," Henley says. To which, Emily nods. "There. Now keep it down. It's almost time for Double Jeopardy."

"See," Lauren whispers to Emily. "I told you. She's an alien."

Emily blinks a few times, probably going over everything in her head for the hundredth time. "I'm sorry things got crazy last night, Lo," Emily says. "I just needed someone to turn to, somewhere to go, and I didn't know who else to call. Thanks for coming to get us."

"Like I'd leave you stranded in the middle of the ghetto at night," Lauren says. "It's cool. Daddy is in Chicago. Even if he were home I don't think he'd mind. Stay as long as you like."

Lauren curls her arms around Emily and they stay like that throughout Double Jeopardy, watching Henley spit out one correct answer after the other. When she gets one wrong, Henley curses, but easily moves past it. She runs into trouble with "Reality of TV" and Lauren answers every one just to irritate her. Final Jeopardy rolls around and the category is "20th Century authors." As the trademark tune plays, Henley talks them through how much money she'd wager. The episode ends and when _Wheel of Fortune_ comes on, Henley changes it.

"So, Henley," Lauren says. "How's your brother doing?"

"Considering you talk to him more than me when I live in the same house as him, I should ask you." Henley has some sort of superiority complex that makes Lauren want to slap the pretentious bitch across the face, but she remembers the world Henley was raised in and she could be worse.

"Spunky." Lauren hums softly. "It almost makes up for your geek factor."

"Be nice," Emily says. "Lo, are you really asking about Ray when you have a date with AJ?"

Lauren rolls her eyes. "I told you it isn't a date! I don't even know what it is. He just randomly asked if I wanted to hang out before all of this happened and I said yes. I could cancel if you need me. We can hang out all day and watch movies or something."

"No, I know you're dying to spend time with him, especially with Shauna Donovan gone," Emily says. Lauren hasn't ever said that. Emily just assumes and it might be a little accurate. "And for your information, I talked to Razor last night before Bruce and my mom came home."

"Did he mention me?" Lauren and Henley ask in unison.

"Lo, he said your texts make his day," Emily reports. Lauren can't fight the feeling she gets. Searching for an outlet, she squeezes Emily's arm, wishing someone could feel as light and elated as she does. "He also mentioned a certain striptease…"

Lauren isn't one bit embarrassed, just laughs. Henley, on the other hand, makes a face like she just bit into a sour apple.

"Words no sister should hear involving her brother."

As an afterthought, Emily says, "Razor also talked about Jody and the drummer hooking up at some Christmas thing. He seemed really upset about it so I let him vent."

Lauren's mood quickly deflates and she stares at the TV, frustrated with the way Henley can't stay on one channel for more than three seconds.

Reading the change in Lauren's demeanor, Emily frowns. "Razor and Jody have been together since they were in the seventh grade and by that I mean the type of together where they were in a mostly functioning relationship. They aren't going to get over each other over night."

Henley laughs, which means she's showing emotion, which is weird. "I like you and everything. You're Colorado Barbie. You made last summer entertaining, but Jody is always going to be in Ray's life. They went through their awkward years together and came out on the other side mostly intact. If you ask me, they aren't going to get over each other _ever_."

"Well, it's good no one asked for your opinion." Lauren combs blonde strands behind her ear when a thought strikes her. She knows she'll regret it once she says it, but she has to say it aloud just to get it out of her head. "Oh, God. Jody is Razor's Kelly Parker."

"Close," Emily says, "but less fucked up, I'd say."

Emily doesn't know about Nicky and Kelly yet and doesn't need any more mental strain at the moment. Lauren clenches her jaw to keep her mouth shut.

"Meh," Henley mutters. "Fucked up is subjective."

"I don't even know what you talk about," Lauren says. Half-full coffee mug in hand, she stands. "Okay, I need to get ready for my non-date. Do either of you have plans today?"

"By the time you get ready it'll be time for my shift at the Shack," Emily says. Lauren fails to suppress a look of disapproval. After a traumatic night in the ghetto, Emily wants to sling dough and deal with customers? Something isn't right there. "Lo, can you give me a lift?"

"You're going to work after last night?"

"Well, you'll be out with AJ all day so I can't just sit around here with nothing to do. I'm hoping work will keep my mind off of everything at least for a couple hours. And technically I'm on my own. Extra cash wouldn't hurt."

Lauren grinds her teeth, wanting to tell Emily that money isn't an issue. The Tanners have so much that they don't know what to do with it most of the time, but she already knows it'll come out wrong. The last thing she wants is Emily thinking she's a charity case.

"Okay," Lauren agrees. "I can trust Jeopardy alone in my house, right?"

"Excellent! There's a Modern Marvels marathon on!" Henley shouts.

While Emily dries her hair, Lauren stares into her closet. She doesn't know what AJ has planned so she doesn't know what to wear. According to the weather app on her iPhone, it'll be sunny and upper fifties, which is a nice change from the February Freeze. Before they leave, Emily reminds Henley to eat and Lauren warns her not to touch her closet.

Lauren may be a little apprehensive about spending quality time with AJ, especially since the last time she saw him Shauna Donovan had her hand in his back pocket. There's a nagging fear in the back of her head, afraid she won't know what to talk to him about or how to act. Her anxiety goes up a notch when Lauren meets AJ and sees Amelia Cruz in her stroller, asleep. Her lips are pouty as ever, eyes closed, wearing a cute little pink parka. Kids freak her out a bit, but Lauren doesn't mind much when they're asleep.

"Hey, Lo." AJ greets her with a one-armed hug. The scruff on his cheek rubs against her and there's something so undeniably sexy about the look of him and even more so the feel of him. She finds it baffling how he can seem so different, but then, when he smirks at her, not at all.

Lauren likes to think she's seen the many faces of AJ Cruz, but every time they meet she feels like she's seeing a new, different side of him. This AJ is so paternal and comfortable with his little human. AJ knows exactly what to do and that isn't the AJ she knows, the one that flees at the first sign of trouble and puts his needs above everyone else.

"I know that look." His eyes are on her the entire time. "You weren't expecting Amelia. Me neither. Ronnie is MIA and Kaylie is in one of her moods so I couldn't ask her to babysit."

"What's going on with Kaylie this time?" Lauren asks. She takes the seat across from AJ, hanging her purse on the back. She doesn't mean to sound so blasé about it even if she's so over the constant Kaylicky melodrama.

"The usual. That boy of hers makes her crazy," AJ says matter-of-factly. "She's upset when he's at his typical level of dull, she's upset when he's upset an the newest one: she's upset even when he's happy."

Happy? Nicky Russo? Lies.

"Did he hear from colleges yet?" Lauren guesses.

"Nah. It had something to do with his friends. Apparently, they made up. I try to listen when Kaylie confides in me, but what can I say? Details aren't exactly my thing. It has her pretty on edge, though. I thought you'd know more than me, being her best friend and all."

Oh, Lauren knows more and wishes she didn't.

"If a translation for Kaylie Problems is what you were fishing for you're better off asking Maeve Benson to lunch."

It grinds her gears, but that's the truth.

"Ouch. Someone's salty," AJ teases. "Maeve Benson. Tall, skinny, thinks she owns everything she steps on? Yeah, she's been around the house a lot." With a chuckle, AJ leans forward, closer to Lauren from across the table. "Get this. She hits on me, right, and her favorite line, she tells me I got robbed, that I would've made a better werewolf guy in Twilight."

Lauren nearly gags. What the hell is with Kaylie and Maeve Benson and that stupid movie?

"Ew. Can we not talk about Maeve Benson hitting on you when I'm right about to eat?" Lauren pulls the menu out from under AJ's laced fingers. "Back to what you were saying, Nicky made up with Kelly Parker and Kaylie was freaking out about it?"

"I don't remember her mentioning any names. She was pretty vague about it. I definitely remember her straight up saying she's paranoid and, I don't know, something about his dad?"

Lauren lowers the menu enough to narrow her eyes at AJ. "Okay, you suck as a spy."

"Is that what I'm doing? Spying on my sister for you? Since when are you having trouble getting Kaylie to talk about her feelings?"

Lauren lifts the menu back up, acting as a dividing line.

"If you ask me, the guy isn't worth the effort," AJ says. "Kaylie does so much for their relationship and he doesn't do anything. Carter was a douche, but at least he worshipped her unlike Mute Boy, who always has something better to do."

"Ha, Mute Boy." Lauren laughs, low and raspy. "Do I need to remind you that Carter also _cheated_ on Kaylie?"

"Obviously, them getting back together would be the worst thing ever, but this new guy is _so lame_. If people were colors, Kaylie would be pink and he'd be wet newspaper. At least Carter would smoke with me…not that I do that anymore because I don't." His attention goes back to his daughter and there's something about the way he looks at Amelia. He's telling the truth.

A waitress comes by to take their order and Lauren doesn't appreciate the way the blonde—Miriam—keeps looking between AJ, Lauren and Amelia like they've just come from a taping of the _Sixteen and Pregnant_ reunion special. Assumptions are annoying.

"Do you not like this place?" AJ asks after once the lady in the green apron leaves. "I see you tryin' to slap a bitch with your glare." AJ smirks like she's glass, not fragile or breakable, but transparent. "What's with that? You have a problem with the waitress or something?"

"Forget it."

"Whatever you say." AJ doesn't press or pry, just leans back in his chair and glances over at his daughter again. He does it every other minute. If it weren't so adorable, Lauren would be upset she doesn't have his undivided attention. "So what's new with you?"

"Nothing too exciting. Daddy's away and I have houseguests."

His lips pull into that familiar smirk and his devilish charm pours out. Lauren twists the giant ring around her finger, growing anxious because she can feel the old AJ starting to surface.

"But none of your current houseguests are as good as me, iight?"

She hears the flirtatious pull of his vocal chords and backs away. "Okay, this is weird."

"What is?"

"This. You flirting with me while your kid's taking a nap."

Lauren's eyes skirt around the edge of the table to where Amelia is. She looks so much like a Cruz with the tan tint to her skin and the dark hair. If she inherited Cruz looks, she must have inherited Donovan internal traits, particularly Shauna's dislike for Lauren Tanner.

AJ laughs. "Just doin' my thang, ma."

Right there. That's full, uninhibited Old AJ. Lauren shakes her head, but a part of her definitely finds it comforting. So much has changed and keeps changing. It's nice to know things don't get lost in transformation, just subtle alterations that lead to evolution.

"Damn, Lo, I missed your laugh." It's probably the most honest she'll ever see him. Lauren stares at his hands, watching how they slowly inch towards hers. Trying to be discrete, Lauren stares out across the café and slides her hands off the table, leaving them in her lap.

"So when are you headed back to Palm Springs?"

"Amelia's birthday is next week and Baby Girl's gotta spend it with her mom." AJ smoothes down the blanket over Amelia. "But we'll be back some time next month and probably stick around till mid-June. I'm trying to convince Shauna to come with, but she hates it here."

"What's with the back and forth?"

"You've heard of purity balls, right? Dads get their daughters to pledge abstinence with promise rings, a slut-shaming circle and other fun stuff like that. I'm not saying it doesn't work, but more often than not parents bribe their daughters into it. Less conversation about sex, more telling them it's bad and not to do it. Denver puts on a big one."

"Isn't Amelia a little young for you to be bringing her to one of these?"

AJ scowls. "Not for Amelia. The Amelia Grace Foundation has partnered with the Boulder Junior League to host the annual debutante ball, trying to take the focus off of purity and more on celebrating girls making it this far and going into the future. At least, that's how I sold it to the country club ladies. Half the proceeds go to AGF. Slam dunk."

"Oh. My. God." Lauren's mouth falls open. "That is the most ridiculous thing you've ever said."

"I wouldn't be laughing," he warns her. "You're in it."

Lauren is firm in her refusing headshake. "Um, I don't think that's your choice to make."

"Come on, it'll be fun. Kaylie's in," AJ says. "Put daddy's money towards a good cause for once. You'll get to buy a fancy dress and get dolled up. Ballroom dancing. Isn't your dad a thriving member of the country club? You might as well be the one organizing this."

"He's a member, but he isn't around enough to make use of it."

"Then do it for me," AJ says. It's always most amusing (and most unattractive) when he _tries_ to be pleasant. He has no shame, staring at her in the same way he would a few summers back, when they'd joke about it being too hot to fuck.

"I'll consider it, but that isn't a yes, AJ."

"Good. I'll put your name down."

They slip into comfortable territory, exchanging words—flirting—but mostly with their eyes since the words and especially the touches are too far in the gray, too confusing. Slowly, they start to discover the strange balance between the people they once were and who they're trying to be. Though they don't address it directly, they carefully explore the change in each other and themselves, but not at the expense of forgetting what they used to have.

AJ even asks about Razor ("that kid I caught you molesting in Cali last summer") and it's nice and light/ Lauren doesn't mention Shauna mostly for her own sake. AJ picks up the tab and from there, they walk through a nearby park. Though it's still crisp out, borderline chilly, the sun is high up in the cloudless sky, signs of spring.

When Amelia finally wakes, AJ hoists her up into his arms as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes. AJ goes to buy her an ice cream cone, two scoops of strawberry, with such ease like he does it all the time. Lauren doesn't think she's seen a tiny person attack a tower of ice cream quite like Amelia Grace. She's messy, gets ice cream all over her face, and it's adorable.

Lauren clicks her tongue. "Something tells me this is clearly a sign of bad parenting."

"No," AJ disagrees. "There's no such thing as bad parenting. Foreal, nothing I could have read in any book would've prepared me for this. You learn as you go. I was obsessed with videotaping everything she did for a while, watched 'em back. It's a learning experience. We call it AJ and Shawnee's Adventures in Babyraising."

"Don't you mean _Alexander_?"

"Don't even start." AJ scoffs, bringing his lips to the ice cream cone, catching streaks of pink spilling over. Amelia puts her little hands on the cone, getting ice cream all over her fingers, matching her mouth. Lauren brushes hair away from her face and glances around the park, pausing when she sees a blonde woman near the jungle gym with a little blonde girl. "You know, Lo, I'm really glad we did this."

"As surprising as it is, I am too."

"Surprising?"

Lauren stretches her arms and legs out in front of her, trying to think of an easy way of explaining. "I didn't know what to expect. Things are so different now. You. Me." Out of the corner of her eye, Lauren spots one of those damn creepy graffiti eyes spray painted on the side of a corner store. "Everything around here."

"Not _everything_," AJ argues. "You're still hardcore feelin' me."

"Ew. As if. There's no _still_ if it never started."

AJ smiles, pulling a paper napkin out of his pocket and cleaning off daughter's cheeks, stained pink. After hanging out for a little while longer, Lauren says goodbye. The empty feeling she has when they're apart lights up the neon sign in her head, pointing out that she may still has feelings for him. They're both growing, not together but not apart either. Lauren didn't think it was possible. Maybe Henley isn't the only one from an alien universe because the feeling Lauren gets in the pit of her stomach is equally as strange.

…

"_Awesome, oh, wow, like totally freak me out I mean right on! 'Cause Toros sure are #1!"_

Nicky groans like he's being put in excruciating pain and Kaylie smacks his arm, giving him a taste of real, physical pain to remind him of the difference. She doesn't understand his tantrum. _Bring It On_ is one of her favorite movies. It's up there with the _Twilight_ saga.

"Is it almost over?" Nicky asks.

"Are you joking? Missy hasn't even joined the squad yet!"

Lying on her stomach on her bed, Kaylie glances over at her boyfriend, on his back, unlocking his iPhone with the swipe of his finger, holding it up over his face. Kaylie watches TV for a couple minutes, but the sound of Nicky's laughter steals her away. The space between his eyebrows pinch with tension, such concentration in his stare. Scooting closer, Kaylie glances at the screen that makes a bubbling sound, the bottom lined with yellow tiles.

Words with Friends.

_FAITH PALM: 413_

_Fishnix: 308_

_3 letters remain _

"She is creaming you," Kaylie says.

"She's cheating. I bet Kelly's helping her just to spite me. The point spread isn't usually that wide when it's Faith. She doesn't take it as seriously as Kelly." Nicky treats Words with Friends like it's an Olympic sport or as if he's being graded on it. "Is this really how we're spending the rest of our Friday? I drove all the way to Boulder for _Bring it On_?"

"And to spend time with your amazing, worth it girlfriend," Kaylie says. "I'm trying to find inspiration and distract myself from Maeve-Lo drama."

"And _Bring It On_ is the one stone that kills two birds?"

"Yes." Kaylie turns onto her stomach and doesn't want to complain any more about why Maeve and Lauren just can't get over themselves and coexist for Kaylie's sanity if nothing else. "So, what do Faith and you do when you hang out?"

Nicky shrugs even with how he's lying down. "I don't know." Kaylie rests her head on her shoulder, curiously staring over at him. "We eat a lot since Faith bakes like she's paid to do it. We spend a lot of time looking around those neat little used bookstores north of Alameda on Broadway. You know how some people write little messages in the front of the books when they give them as gifts? We spend hours seeing who can find the best ones. We're supposed to do something tomorrow. Maybe a hike since the weather's been nice."

"That sounds fun…" Kaylie's voice trails off, waiting for him to invite her, but Nicky just looks back at his phone. "So is it just a thing with you and her or…?"

"Yeah, to balance out how much we stuff ourselves."

"Can I come too?"

Nicky looks at her quizzically. "But you don't even like Faith?"

"I never said I didn't like her."

Kaylie just doesn't like how he always brings her up in conversation like she's the next Jesus. Nicky looks away, obviously isn't buying what Kaylie's saying.

"Nicky, of course, I like her. She's your best friend. And since I make you hang out with my friends all the time I just figured it'd be fair…"

"You don't need to."

"But what if I want to?"

Nicky's lips twist to show his confliction. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? Are you trying to hide her from me?" Kaylie asks with a forced laugh. Because it's a lot easier than asking, _are you trying to hide me from her?_

"No, it's not that. It's just that Faith is really loyal to Kelly. They're best friends. They live together." Nicky does that thing he always does, pauses and hesitates. He's about to be honest with her. "When we first started dating, Faith made me promise that we wouldn't do that. She doesn't want it to seem like…like we're trying to replace Kelly with you."

Nicky doesn't mean for it to sound harsh and Kaylie gets that, but it doesn't make it any easier to swallow. "Oh."

Turning onto his stomach, parallel to her, Nicky tosses his phone aside and looks back at the TV. As much as she wants to do the same, Kaylie's thoughts are elsewhere. She can see how desperate he is to change the subject, how there are still wounds that haven't quite healed and he isn't willing to tend to. Kelly Parker clearly dug her claws deep. Kaylie is still lost to how he cares so much about someone who doesn't deserve it.

"Tell me you're only watching this because you're freaking out over your cheerleading thing," Nicky nearly begs. "Please tell me you don't actually like this movie."

"Actually, I _love_ this movie. It's ten times better than the weird sci-fi movies you're obsessed with. Some of the movies you made me watch, the vampires didn't even sparkle."

Nicky's face folds on itself, an expression of distaste, and Kaylie smiles because he's being cute and he doesn't even realize it. "God, _Twilight_. I still can't believe our first official date, you made me watch _that_ in theaters."

Kaylie gasps, extra dramatic, just so Nicky makes that expression again. "Eclipse was so great! That's the one where Edward asks Bella to marry him! And there were all those action scenes. Prepare yourself, boyfriend, because when Breaking Dawn comes out, we're seeing it."

Nicky groans, being just as overdramatic, even if they both know Kaylie is going to pout and he'll end up going, driving and paying for everything. "Hey, our anniversary is coming up."

"How could I forget? Eight months."

Kaylie loves the sound of it. Eight months. Neither of them knew they were capable of staying in a relationship this long and now they've proven it. It feels good.

"All I ask is you show up to my mom's stupid label party, wearing the cute tie I bought you."

"Deal. Does that mean I don't have to wear the awful shoes?"

"What makes you think you're getting out of wearing the _classy_ shoes?" Kaylie asks. "The shoes and the approved shirt and slacks. No jeans or sneakers or hoodies. And we'll probably have to put up with small talk with strangers, but I promise I'll make it worth your while."

"You can guarantee this?"

Kaylie kisses him, moving her hand up his arm and drawing him closer as she lies back. Nicky follows, carefully moving over to her, sliding his hand to the small of her back and pressing her against him. Kaylie doesn't even realize how hard she's smiling. It goes to show how much she loves where their relationship is. This is how she always knew it could be.

Between the long, deep kisses, their breathing grows louder, creating a symphony of sharp gasps and soft moans, building and building. Hands begin to wander and without protests. Nicky responds, even initiates, like he's telling her he's finally ready.

At the sound of his phone, Nicky pulls away, making Kaylie moan, unhappy. She shuts her eyes, frustrated and bad at hiding it. "Tell me you aren't stopping for Words with Friends."

"No, that was a text." Nicky reaches for his phone, but doesn't forget she exists entirely. He isn't completely clueless, at least not anymore.

"And that's supposed to be better?"

"It's probably Faith. The expert unintentional cockblock." With him atop her, Kaylie literally feels his muscles tense, but doesn't ask. Right now, she doesn't want to know what he meant by that. "And, uh, when I don't answer her texts, she calls and if I ignore her again she fills my voicemail inbox. You know that drives me insane. Let me just get rid of her."

"Fine, but hurry up."

Nicky presses a soft kiss to her cheek and checks his phone. Apparently, the distraction wasn't worth it because Nicky scoffs. "She wants me to check Words with Friends. Probably to finish that game so she can gloat. Two seconds and I'm all yours, Princess."

Kaylie groans again, watching her boyfriend enter nerd mode. Kaylie closes her eyes, but when more than two seconds pass, she opens one eye to see Nicky with his back to her.

"Nicky? What is it?"

He doesn't answer and so Kaylie sits up, moving over to him and draping her arms over his shoulders, looking at what he's fixated on—an empty game board, waiting for his move.

_HBIC KP 0_

_Fishnix 0_

_90 letters remain _

"Kelly?"

"Yeah." Nicky continues to sit there, stunned. "Last summer, when we were both back, I started a game with her, just to kind of test the waters and she _refused_. Kelly Parker doesn't turn down a challenge, especially when she thinks she can win. We haven't played since and now she's _inviting me_ to play a game? Has hell frozen over?"

Nicky fumbles like a schoolboy who just got his first "do you like me? Check yes, no, maybe" note in his locker. The mood from earlier is definitely dead, buried and forgotten. Kaylie moves to sit beside him, letting her legs hang over the edge of her bed. Nicky just keeps staring at his phone. His social anxiety comes to light and might be his least attractive quality.

"So this is a good thing?"

"This is amazing!" Nicky smiles and it's more to himself than at Kaylie. "Crap, of course when Kelly starts a game with me, I get the worst tiles. Four Es? That's just depressing."

Nicky puts thought into potential words to play like a girl planning her outfit for the day. Before Nicky can figure out a word that won't completely embarrass him, his phone rings. Nicky answers the call before it can ring more than twice.

"Faye?" The volume on his phone isn't very loud, but when Nicky pauses, Kaylie can hear Faith's enthusiastic chatter from the other end. "I know! Did she say anything to you? After _months_ of pretending I'm invisible she does this? Not that I'm complaining…"

"This is…nice," Kaylie says, for the lack of a better word. She doesn't know why she even bothers because Nicky isn't listening. "I'm going to grab a drink. Nicky, you want anything?"

"—Kelly's dad leaves for India and all of a sudden, she pours out the liquor, wants a new tattoo and now she's acknowledging I exist?" Nicky continues to talk into his phone. "Are you sure she didn't hit her head during practice? These could be signs of neurological damage."

When she doesn't get anything that resembles a response, Kaylie slips out of the room and mutters, "Two seconds and I'm all yours, Princess—my ass."

Kaylie knows she should be happy to see Nicky so happy, but all she feels is dread. It doesn't feel good, the way he completely pushed her aside the second Kelly came up and Faith called. She doesn't just drop him the second her friends snap their fingers, does she? Right when it felt like they were making progress and he was trying to be the boyfriend she knows he can be. One step forward and two steps back. This dance got old months ago.

When she reaches the kitchen, Kaylie looks over the reminders stuck to the refrigerator. They used to be a family who hung up A+ math tests (mostly Leo's) and reminds for parent teacher meetings (all for AJ) and the crayon drawings Kaylie used to do as a little girl. Now, each note has something to do with the corporate party Ronnie is hosting.

"Hey." AJ always looks so busy and important in his fancy clothes, designer Kobalt sunglasses, and iPhone always on hand. Kaylie is convinced he's just playing Angry Birds. "Kick your boyfriend out. We have somewhere to be."

"Okay?" Kaylie waits for AJ to explain, but he just goes to the refrigerator. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"No."

"That's wonderful, Aje," Kaylie says sarcastically. "Where's Lia?"

"Ronnie took her party dress shopping."

"You won't let me drive your old car yet you let mom watch your only daughter?" Kaylie asks. "There's something wrong with that logic."

"I hate to admit it, but I trust Amelia with Ronnie more than her with us, going where we're gone." Either he's being vague on purpose or that's just AJ. "Five minutes, Kales. Tell your boy to get lost. We need to go. And if his shitty car is ever in my parking spot again he's dead."

Kaylie wholeheartedly disregards her brother's threat. If anything, he finds more enjoyment in torturing Nicky than protecting his sister. AJ grabs a bottle of water from the refrigerator and twists the cap off with the flick of his wrist. Before he can take a sip, Kaylie snags it away and goes upstairs. It's Voss brand bottled water. Kaylie can't help, but think of Lauren.

Once Kaylie steps back into her room, Nicky rounds his arms around her and spins her in a small circle that makes her laugh. She can't remember the last time she's seen him like this, with such a wide smile and his eyes filled with hope. As much as she enjoys this reenergized Nicky Russo, it sucks the change had to result from contact with Kelly Parker.

Putting on a cheery smile, Kaylie asks, "Is she kicking your ass too?"

"No way, I'm up eighty-three to fifty-five, but it's her turn. Rules for when you play games with Kelly Parker: you don't let her win and you don't cheat. That isn't the way to win her respect. She can sense it through the Wi-Fi."

"So this is actually happening? You two are finally making up?"

"That's the desired outcome, yeah, but you never know. Can you imagine? We're going on eight months. Faith is home. Now Kelly and I can maybe go back to being friends. This is exactly how things are supposed to be."

Kaylie thought the exact same thing _before_ HBIC KP wanted to play a game.

"Something wrong?" Nicky asks.

"No, nothing, but AJ is home and we have plans I wasn't aware of and I have to go."

"Darn," Nicky says, with mock disappointment. "That means no _Bring It On_ marathon?"

"You are so lucky you're off the hook," Kaylie says. Nicky's smile softens and he wraps his arms around her in a hug, pressing his lips to the side of her face. Sometimes it's just nice to be held even if it does little for her paranoia. "I'll call you tonight. You better answer."

"I will." Nicky kisses her lips and pulls back just to kiss her a second time, just a quick peck. Nicky grabs his car keys off the dresser and heads for the door. Kaylie grabs her favorite magenta cardigan and her leather purse before following after him.

She takes his hand while they walk down the stairs and Nicky holds on tight until he sees AJ. Nicky kisses her quick and leaves even quicker. Right when Kaylie's about to ask AJ to stop bullshitting and tell her where they're going, he drops his keys into her palm and tells her to drive. To Kaylie, this feels like her road test all over again.

"Can we at least listen to music?" Kaylie asks.

"No. Just drive."

"Can you tell me where we're going at least?"

"No. Follow the GPS."

Kaylie huffs, annoyed with the way her brother treats her sometimes. He keeps looking from her to the road as if he's afraid they're going to suddenly veer off and plummet into the abyss. Kaylie is a great driver. She took Driver's Ed and everything. AJ is just weird about needing everything to be a certain way—his way. They get closer and closer to their destination, but all Kaylie sees is a string of car dealerships on the outskirts of town.

"I know a guy who owns a car lot. He also happens to be a fan of dad's," AJ explains. "He agreed to give us full access to test out whatever you want. I know how desperate you are for your own set of wheels. Dad wanted to be here for this, but you know his schedule. Since your birthday is coming up and Melia and me are going back to Palm Springs…"

Kaylie's face lights up. "Seriously? My own car?"

"Kaylie, if there's one thing I'm serious about it's car shopping. Can you just promise to be less crazy all the time? You're sixteen. How much can you possibly be going through?"

"I'm sorry. Are you asking me to vent about boys and friends and cheerleading _to you_?"

"Say no more." AJ points off to the side and tells her to turn into a lot that doesn't look as sketchy as Kaylie imagined. It actually looks like a respectable business, not a junkyard owned by one of the creeps AJ used to hang out with when he was still going to Taft.

Kaylie plasters on a smile as AJ talks to an older man in a tacky suit, clearly a car salesman. They shake hands and talk baseball for longer than Kaylie cares to listen. Finally, AJ asks to see the cars Alex hand chose and thought Kaylie would like. Despite their strained and distant relationship, knowing that he thinks about her, it isn't enough, but it is nice sometimes.

The Cruz siblings spend the evening test-driving cars like two kids in a candy store. AJ still doesn't let her turn on the radio and braces himself every time Kaylie so much as hits the breaks a little too hard, but he has this smile on his face like he's proud. Fatherhood has definitely done something to him and Kaylie doesn't hate it at all.

"This one." Kaylie sits behind the wheel of a sweet Mercedes E series convertible. She tilts her head out the window for a look at the exterior. "I am not into the color, though."

Forest green. Not Kaylie's cup of tea.

"Yeah, but it's not like we're buying this one off the lot," AJ assures her. "If you find something you like today we can get the paperwork filled out and send the bill to dad."

"Thanks, AJ. This was actually pretty great."

"You seem like you needed it. We live in the same house. I'm not blind or deaf. I see you stressing over school and cheerleading and family stuff. Add your weird boyfriend to all that?"

Kaylie quickly looks away when he mentions Nicky. Knowing Nicky, he's probably obsessing over his phone, thinking Kelly is sending him cryptic messages through the stupid Scrabble knockoff.

"What's up with that guy?" AJ asks. "You wanna talk about it? Foreal."

"If he hangs out with other girls, as his girlfriend, I have a right to be a little paranoid, right?"

"Define _hang out_."

Kaylie pauses. For one, she's shocked AJ is actually taking her seriously. Two, she doesn't know how to definite it. Nicky's tattoo is dedicated to Kelly. Faith lives with him, comfortable to the point where she marches around his house in a towel. Whenever Nicky mentions Faith or Kelly, it's as if their names alone trigger some sort of special FKN endorphins.

"They all grew up together and his dad loves them." Kaylie pouts without even realizing. "Not that I care if his dad likes me or not." AJ gives her a look that says he knows better than to believe that. "Okay, so maybe I care _a little_. Nicky's been fighting with his friends and really depressed about it and now things might be getting better. I just… I'm terrified that if he had to choose, he'd choose them over me, that he chose me the first time and he regrets it."

"I don't know what to tell you." AJ stares past the windshield and out at the dimming sky. "I'm not exactly his #1 fan to begin with, but I will say that if he regrets choosing you, he didn't deserve you in the first place."

AJ looks so genuine about it even if Kaylie doesn't want to explore that possibility just yet.

"Thanks, Aje."

"Anytime, Kiwi," AJ teases. He has a knack for making the sweetest words sound so smarmy. "Would now be the appropriate time to ask you for a favor?"

Kaylie knew there had to be a catch to all this. "What now?"

"Other than talking baseball and getting you your car, I'm here to talk to Marshall about maybe pitching in to sponsor the Deb ball." Kaylie turns up her eyes whenever her brother mentions his newest project and how she has no choice, but to participate. "Kales, don't give me that look. C'mon. I'm going to need you to come out to society and lead by example."

"AJ, like you said, I have a lot going on—"

"It isn't till June. You'll be out of school by then. It's for a good cause and you know you not-so-secretly enjoy all that girly shit. And, hey, while you're at it, could you get the word out to your friends and whoever? The Boulder Junior League could use a few more members."

Kaylie shakes her head in disbelief. "This is not real life. You are not my brother."

"You best believe it." AJ winks at her and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, throwing off the seatbelt across his chest. "Now, watch a master bullshitter in action. I guarantee I can talk down the price for your car _and_ get Marshall to drop a pretty penny in the name of sex and helping out the lost causes like me."

AJ gets out of the car and Kaylie does the same, following him into the dealership. Though she has always found AJ's constant bullshit both old and annoying, in moments like this, she can recognize that it just makes his genuine moments mean even more.

…

Emily still sees last night over and over in flashes behind her eyelids, grainy and lagging like film playing on an old movie projector, cranking and struggling, but there. It plays on loop. The yelling. The shoving. The slap. It haunts her, barely lets her close her eyes for longer than a few minutes before she's jolted awake at the realization that it all happened in real time.

It's such a relief to take shelter in the Tanner house. When Emily finally gives up on sleeping, she curls up onto her side with Lauren snoring away beside her. She can't clear her head long enough to sleep. There's too much on her mind. For months now, Emily has been pushing Chloe to take a stand and last night she did. She stood against her own daughter. Emily has been let down by her mother in the past, but last night was a whole other level.

When she can't take the stillness and the quiet anymore, Emily slowly gets out of bed and decides to get something to drink. The clock tells her it's a little past 5 a.m. and the sun is yet to kiss the sky good morning. The house is mostly dark, except for flashing lights coming from the living room, accompanies by mumbles and murmurs.

"Henley, are you awake already?"

"I don't have a baby and I don't intend to have one _ever_, but there's something oddly appealing about the Baby Bullet," Henley says. Not once does her eyes stray from the infomercial onscreen. "If I call in the next ten minutes they'll double my order, which is both unnecessary and impractical, but I want one. I have a debit card, but I'm not eighteen yet…"

"Are you okay?" Emily spies the cordless phone on the edge of the coffee table and discretely takes it, hiding it behind her back as she sits next to her stepsister. "Can't sleep?"

"No. Not ever."

"Henley, your timing couldn't possibly be any worse, but it's nice to see you. I probably forgot to mention that when I was, well, hugging you and crying earlier…" Emily crosses her legs beneath her, watching Henley watch TV. "Why are you here and not in Montana? Razor said—"

"I couldn't do it," Henley says. "I was on a plane to Billings and there was a layover in Denver and I…I got off the plane. My mom thinks all my quote/unquote '_issues'_ are because of my dad and since I'm on break I should visit him and hash things out, but I couldn't so I came here."

"What's so bad about Montana?"

"I still have nightmares sometimes," Henley says. "Of him. And I know he isn't a bad person. He's my dad. He loves me. But the nightmares…"

"It's okay." Emily lays her hand on the back of Henley's arm. "I have nightmares too."

Henley finally lifts her eyes to Emily, who is yet to admit it even to herself. The sleepless nights aren't anything new, especially not when a monster is passed out in the next room. The rapidly changing images on the television cast colors across Henley's face, highlighting the search for solace in her eyes.

"I know it's insane," Henley whispers. "Not to mention fiscally irresponsible, leaving the plane like that, taking a cab and showing up unannounced, but I figured I could lay low with you for a while and deal with my mom later. I can still do that, right?"

"You're already here. I can't exactly turn you away, but there's one thing and I know this is going to sound bad, but I need to know… Have you stopped taking your medication?"

It's usually a playful question, but Emily really means it when she asks. Henley has a history of taking things she doesn't need and refusing the ones actually prescribed in her name. Leaning over the side of the couch to where her purse is, Henley pulls out an orange bottle. It's dark so Emily can't make out much more than Henley's name on the label. Not that she'd be able to pronounce, let alone understand it if she could.

"I can't, Emily." Henley curls her long fingers around the bottle. "They make me lethargic and…weak. You know me. I thrive on productivity. This turns me into a zombie and I am not a zombie! My mom's pill pusher kook therapist prescribed them to me. He'd probably okay a pregnant woman to take them with a glass of vino while operating heavy machinery."

"I'm sure that's all true, but it also keeps you stable," Emily says. "And I'm about to fall apart right now so I need you as stable as you can be. Please. Just take them. Otherwise, maybe it'd be best if we call Ray right now and tell him where you are and what happened."

With the glass of water in one hand and the cordless phone in the other, Emily holds them both out for Henley. She knows it's probably best to get her to take the pills and then call Razor and the Sheppards, but Emily also knows what it's like to have limited options and other people making choices for her. She isn't about to do the same to Henley. After a long moment of anxiously drumming her fingers against her knees, Henley heaves a heavy sigh.

"I'm supposed to take them before bed."

"And you haven't slept for how long now?" Emily asks.

"I'll take one tonight," Henley says. "I promise."

"Don't screw me over."

Give trust to get trust. Without it, life would be as bad as the dystopian novels Emily's been reading for English class.

"You know you have to tell Razor eventually, but I won't force you to before you're ready," Emily says. Henley nods and turns her attention back to the TV. "How are things at home?"

"Horrible," Henley says, straightforward and without hesitation. "Mom and Dave fight every day. They don't even sleep in the same room. He works crazy hours and she's just crazy. Razor hides in his room and I try to focus on school. Mom brought up family therapy and everyone lost it, like the bad kind of reality television."

"If it makes you feel any better, as you can see, my family isn't perfect either. Not even Lo's. I don't think anyone's is."

The Keelers might come pretty damn close, but Emily knows Mr. Keeler being away takes a toll on the family even if Payson refuses to see it that way.

"It doesn't make me feel better, but I appreciate it."

Emily nods and Henley continues channel surfing, complete with her own personal commentary on different infomercials, going from ridiculing one's stupidity to desperately wanting another despite its stupidity. Even when the sun starts to lighten the sky, Emily isn't one bit sleepy. She goes to take a shower, hoping the warm water will help calm her nerves.

Though work is the last thing she wants to do on a Saturday, Emily needs the money. Lauren tries to talk her into calling in sick, but Emily refuses to be the reason Lauren backs out of seeing AJ. Emily doesn't understand what's between them, but she knows it's one of those things that will always be there no matter what.

It being midmorning, the Pizza Shack is empty, which isn't unusual. At least Carter isn't working the early shift. Though she's slowly coming to the realization that he isn't horrible to be around strictly as people who work together, Carter does have questionable taste in music and she isn't in the mood for someone to ask why she's so down.

After prepping the kitchen for the day, Emily sits at the register with a paperback as a couple of her coworkers hang back in the kitchen, amusing themselves and cooking up weird combinations of toppings, daring each other to eat it. A few customers come in, but business doesn't really pick up at all. With money barely trickling in and the irresponsibility of the staff, it's amazing how the Shack is yet to go bankrupt.

Right when Emily contemplates taking her break, the bell above the front door jingles and in walks Ike. He has a happy-go-lucky smile and Emily already wants to tell him to get out. His good mood does not sit well with her. He even whistles as he walks. Emily almost expects him to suddenly break out in a song and dance musical number.

"Yo, Kmetko!" Ike slaps his hand against the counter. "Look, you made me sign a contract when you first started tutoring me, saying our sensei-grasshopper partnership is based on honesty so I'll be honest with you. You look awful."

"Thanks, Ike, you really know how to make a girl feel special."

"Well, I know what'll make you feel even specialer. Is it specialer or more special?" Ike takes a glance around the Shack, paying special attention to the family of four in the back and the lonely guy near the arcade. "I know business is booming and all, but do you have a sec?"

"You have perfect timing. I was right about to take my break." Emily saves her place in her book with a packet of Parisian cheese and tosses it under the counter. She pops into the kitchen and one of the guys—Brad—offers her a piece of pizza topped with bacon, anchovies, asparagus and chocolate. She passes on the offer and lets them know she's going on break. Emily grabs a diet coke and meets Ike in an isolated camera. "So, what's up?"

"Pay day! Cha-ching!" Ike pulls back the lapel of his jacket and shows her the pocket hand-stitched inside. From it, Ike slides out a wad of money held together by a rubber band. Emily's eyes widen. She doesn't think she's seen cash like that in her entire life.

"Pleasure doing business with you and your beautiful handwriting." Ike counts out bill after bill beneath the table and holding it out to Emily, palm down.

"Th—that's all for me?"

"Unless you don't want it…?"

"No, I'll take it," Emily says, hoping she doesn't sound too eager.

She brings her hand beneath the table and grabs the money. Emily unravels her fingers and stares at the crisp paper in her lap. She's holding more money than she makes in a month at the Shack, including extra shifts and tips. All she did was organize text messages into an encoded ledger and occasionally assure antsy Royal boys that they'll get what they paid for.

"We need to lay low for a bit with the whole Valentine's Day fiasco," Ike says. "Kids were getting caught left and right. I heard Matsui looked like his brain was going to explode when he walked into the boy's bathroom. Nothing to worry about. They always come back. Still in?"

Emily shoves the cash into the pocket of her apron. "Just text me when."

"Sweet. So what does it take for a guy to get a cup of coffee around here?"

"You can walk up to the counter and order it yourself because I'm on break." Emily bites on the straw stuck in her diet coke, staring at the bubbles that dance on the surface.

"Fair enough." Ike gets halfway out of his seat, but then sits back down. Emily knows she looks tired and definitely feels tired, but not enough to be oblivious to the concern in Ike's expression. "Is everything okay, Emily?"

Crap. Ike Benzinger can tell. It doesn't get any more see-through than that.

"Fine." Emily rubs at her sore eyes, buying her some time to think of a vague enough response. As much as she considers Ike her friend (admitting it still sort of shocks her), Emily isn't about to go weighing him down with her problems. She's sure he has enough of his own. "Just too much going on at once."

Ike synchronizes the way he nods his head with his knuckles knocking against the wooden table. "You know, Rodge is worried about you. He told me not to say anything, but he is."

"What did Rodge say exactly?"

"He might have overheard some kind of commotion over at your place last night and when he went to go see if everything was cool, your mom started crying when he asked for you. So other than giving you your cut, I came to this lovely establishment today because I need to give my partner in criminal things a status update on you before he has a panic attack."

"You can tell him I'm fine." For some reason it strikes her that Rodge would physically go over to see if she was okay. "Things got a little tense around the house so I'm staying with Lauren. I just got into a little fight with my mom and her boyfriend. You know how that is."

"Yep. It's no coincidink Laguna rhymes with drama. Wait, that's wrong, isn't it?"

"Does it rhyme? No, but actually, that's exactly right. You still want that coffee?"

"To go?"

"I'll throw in a couple calzones for the kids," Emily volunteers, starting to stand up. "Don't worry. It's on the house."

"You sure? I could actually pay for it this time."

"Just help out the tip jar," Emily hints.

"Will do."

Emily goes to the kitchen to heat up a couple calzones for Ike's little brother and sister. She trusts Ike will use at least a portion of his cut to buy groceries, but they're probably starving right now. While waiting, Emily fishes for her phone and finds three text messages from Kaylie, jam-packed with words. Obviously, something must have happened if she needed three whole, separate texts to convey whatever Kaylie is feeling.

In the minute she has to spare, Emily skims the first. Something about Nicky (no brainer) and Faith's name pops up and so does Kelly Parker's. There are certain words and even strings of words in all capital letters and an abundance of exclamation points. Emily just doesn't have the energy at the moment. She doesn't read the second or third one. She doesn't feel bad either; confident Kaylie will be fine.

Emily packs the calzones into a paper bag and hands it over to Ike who in turn drops a few bills in the tip jar. Emily has the urge to fish it out and keep it, but she actually likes this batch of coworkers. Brad is basically in love with his reflection (but who wouldn't be when you're that pretty?) and Rigo is a total clown, who started wearing a slouchy beanie, fed up with being mistaken for Carter from behind. (Curly haired Colorado boys, God bless them.)

Right as Ike walks out and Emily goes to refill her diet coke from the fountain, Chloe walks in. Instead of her loudly thumping heels, Chloe takes uncharacteristically soft steps. When Emily sees her, the steel curtain comes down.

"Emily."

"I'm working." With her back to her mom, Emily pushes her cup against the lever and watches soda pour into her cup and fizz at the top.

"You can spare a minute, can't you?"

"No."

"_Emily_."

"Mom, you chose Bruce over me," Emily says, turning to face her. Emily's voice cracks as she says it, struggling between her rage and pain. Chloe flinches, takes a step back and almost makes Emily feel bad. "I can't. I don't want to talk about it. I can't. Not right now."

"Where are you staying? At least tell me that much."

"Lauren's," Emily answers.

"And Steve is okay with this?"

"Probably." Emily brings her soda in front of her, choosing to stare at the pool of cola rather than her mother's sad eyes. "I don't know. It was late. It isn't like they'd throw me out."

"Emily, I know things got out of control and I know it's all my fault," Chloe say. Emily already hears Henley's voice in her head, calling her mom _submissive_. "Just come home so we can talk about it. Bruce and Brian, they understand that people say things and things happen…"

"He's still there?" Emily doesn't know why she sounds surprised. It isn't really surprising at all.

"Where else is he supposed to go?"

"I'm not going anywhere near the Meadows if Bruce is still in the picture," Emily says firmly. "I can't put myself back into that situation and I still can't believe you'd put me and Brian in that situation in the first place! I can't. I'll be at Lauren's. You obviously couldn't take care of me so I'll take care of myself. For as long as I can remember, that's all I ever did."

Emily reminds herself to breathe once she gets all that off her chest. She feels good, lighter, and surprised that she was able to say all she wanted to say without screaming or leaving the room. But then, just as the relief set in, Emily catches Chloe's expression and it weights her heart down to the floor, lower than it was this morning or even last night.

"Okay," Chloe says. "When you're ready to come home I'll be ready to talk."

Eyes tearing and mascara starting to run, Chloe leaves the Pizza Shack without saying anything else. Emily thought that maybe if she got all of that out, if she told her mom exactly where she was coming from and where she stood, that it'd feel empowering, however, as she watches her mom run out of the room, Emily just feels like crap.

Why does taking care of herself and standing up for herself have to mean hurting someone she loves? With every decision she makes, Emily finds this same question reoccurring.

"Hey, Kmetko!" Brad's deep voice calls out to her. When his handsome face comes into her view, Emily turns to him, welcoming the distraction. "Everything okay out here?"

"Fine."

"Um, alright, cool," he says. "So, you're a girl."

"Thanks for noticing," Emily says sarcastically. Brad gives her a pearly white smile, which accentuates his strong jaw, so perfect it looks as if a world-class artist carved it out of marble.

"I just meant, you're a girl so you're an expert on girl things and not a loser like Rigs so I've still got a fighting chance here," Brad elaborates. Really, his smile screams ladykiller. Seeing him smile at her like that is almost enough to make Emily forget about her crappy mood. "Anyways, we're bored and arguing and you need to settle something for us."

"I'm not surprised. You two are the old married couple of the Shack," Emily says. Laughter comes from the kitchen and Brad joins in. They both know it's true. "What's it about this time? Hmm, who's the best BMX rider ever or who's the hottest Victoria's Secret model?"

"DAK! His flow is bombs!" Rigo shouts from the kitchen. "And any blonde on any beach!"

"No way. Wrong on both counts." Brad scoffs. "Matt Hoffman. Hands down. The guy has two BMX video games named after him and _no one_ can even touch what he did for the sport. And Adriana Lima is a goddess."

Emily shakes her head. Oh, boys. "So what's the argument today?"

"Damon Young."

Emily's face drops. Her mood plummets. Even Brad's attractiveness can't distract her.

Oblivious, the pizza boy continues, "I happen to think his music is whiny and, well, sorta gay. I have no idea why chicks—and Rigo—are into that."

"Don't hate on taste! Damon Young's music, especially his early stuff, is awesome!" Rigo argues. He moves into view, wearing a hairnet (what a dork, no one enforces that rule here) and his flour-covered apron. "I'm sorry we don't all indulge is noise like you do, Brad. What's on your iPod? Wiz Khalifa and Drake, senseless chatter, man. Damon Young is an artist."

"More like a stoner," Brad says. "Have you seen pictures of that guy?"

"I wouldn't bet against you on that one," Rigo says. "What do you say, Em? Emily Tiebreaker Kmetko stepping into the ring. Can you please enlighten my musically uneducated friend?"

As tempted as she is to just storm out, Emily embraces the way her throat closes up like an allergic reaction to the sound of his name. She embraces the urge to break down (again) no matter who is or isn't there to witness it. Once she comes to terms with it, she fights it. Emily has wallowed over him long enough.

"Three words," Emily says. "One. Hit. Wonder."

Rigo winces dramatically, but it's swallowed whole by Brad's laughter. He holds his hand up for a high-five and Emily slaps his palm with hers, smiling despite the sick feeling she has inside. Emily heads back to the register and Brad proudly struts back into the kitchen, but Rigo remains, eyeing Emily suspiciously.

"Why'd you leave me hanging there, Em?" Rigo calls her out. "I distinctly remember past conversations in the break room where you'd _gush_ over Damon Young and not just his smile or his eyes, but his actual music ability? I was kind of expecting that girl to have my back."

"I changed my mind. "Things change, Rigo. And when they do, all we can do is embrace it."

…

The Rock is destroyed. Defaced. Trashed.

Literally, there's trash everywhere. Garbage bags have been torn open and trash is scattered all on the floor. Apparatuses are disassembled, coated with raw eggs, broken shells crushed into the mats. Every room smells like paint fumes and no wall is left untagged. Unlike the precise, uniform eyes around Boulder, this graffiti is nonsensical, a mess just to be a mess.

When Sasha walks in and sees the inside of the Rock, his rage is clear. Everyone feels it radiating off of him despite the cool blue of his eyes. Feeling his mounting anger, Austin is revved up, downright antsy, and so Payson touches his arm and tells him to settle down.

"Well, we should start cleaning up if anyone expects to do any training today," Sasha says. Austin is surprised by his reaction, how he just lets it go, but Payson isn't. "I expect everyone to pitch in and help. The more we work together, the sooner things will get back to normal."

"But nothing is going to go back to normal!" Austin steps up. Payson has the urge to grab him by his leather jacket and tug him back in line. "Sasha, we just got our as—"

"_Language_." Sasha cuts him off. His eyes dart around the room, where many of the gymnasts are only in their early teens. He then turns to Austin, who should know better.

"We were majorly, _majorly _disrespected," Austin argues. "We can't just let whoever did this get away and think they won."

"I wasn't aware this was something to be won." Sasha crosses his arms and anyone that knows him at all knows isn't a good sign. "And how do you suggest we deal with this, Austin? Please. Tell me."

Austin doesn't have an answer, doesn't even move his mouth to try to come up with something. Austin is all action, never planning, very little thought before he does something. He only starts thinking it through when he gets into trouble and needs an out.

"As I expected." Sasha isn't trying to rub it in, just stating fact. "The important thing right now is gymnastics, the reason we gather here every day. To do that, we need to get this mess cleared out. Think of it as an exercise in teamwork. It shouldn't be a surprise that _everyone_, titleholders or not, elite or juniors, could use help in that department. Meanwhile, we'll look into the budget at the next staff meeting and possibly investing in better security."

Security? There goes the Four's traditional sleepover at the Rock.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Sasha starts to walk away, but then stops, addressing the crowd once again. "And one more thing, anyone who even thinks about seeking revenge should pack their things and find a new gym. Retaliation _will not_ be tolerated. To be a Rock gymnast, to proudly wear your Rock jackets, means we're all held to a certain standard, of a high caliber. We're better than that and it will do all of you good to remember it."

Sasha directs the trainers and staff to get all the necessary supplies from the utility closet so they can start cleaning. Meanwhile, the gymnasts stand at the center of the gym, still in their street clothes, some in their cover-ups, no one knowing where to start.

"This is like, lame," Violet complains. A little rich girl who doesn't live too far from Lauren and Kaylie, she hasn't had to clean a thing in her life.

"You're one to talk. It was probably your stupid Denver Elite boyfriend who did this!" Scarlet growls. She's impulsive and shameless, opposite to Violet, critical and moralized, leaving Payson constantly stuck between the two, organized and realistic.

Violet narrows her cat-like eyes and steps up to Scarlett, getting in her face. "Keep your mouth shut. You know about the no dating rule and my boyfriend has nothing to do with any of this. If he did, he'd tell me about it. We don't keep secrets from each other."

Scarlet laughs right in the other girl's face. "Oh, if only you knew."

"Stop! Both of you!" Payson shouts. "I'm sick of you bickering all the time. I'm the one who has to be in Jacksonville _days_ from now, competing at the World Cup. I don't have time to listen to this or stand around, not training. Now, you heard Sasha. Let's get going."

Violet storms off without comment and Scarlet sets her hands on her hips, wanting to say something, but instead turns up her nose and walks away. They may not like Payson, but they respect her. The designated leader of the elites desperately misses having the Four or Faith and Kelly in the gym, training at her side.

"Nicely done, Cap'n." Conrad comes up beside Payson and holds out a closed fist. In turn, the blonde bumps her knuckles against his—a Conrad Cooper sign of respect. With a nod, he directs her attention to Austin, who's staring off, silently fuming. "Give him some time. His ego's just a little busted. Now, let's show our Rock a little love."

It throws off their daily schedules, but eventually, they get the Rock cleaned up and safe enough to start training again. Although they try to make the best of it, the vandalism is all anyone can talk about and out of Sasha's earshot, of course.

"I don't know why there's such a big debate over who's responsible. It can only be Denver Elite," Becca says. While everyone is ready to put it past them, Becca can't leave it alone.

"See!" Austin looks accusingly at Payson, who doesn't want any part of this conversation. "Payson, even Keeler the Third thinks so. It has to be them. We all know what DE is short for."

"_DouchE_," Conrad says. Perfectly timed too.

Payson is ready to rain on their parade and she isn't sorry about it. "All I'm saying is I don't think we should be jumping to conclusions."

"Agreed," Austin says. He yanks on the zipper of his leather jacket and takes a quick look around at the remaining people in the gym, few and far between. In a quieter voice, Austin adds, "And once we're sure, we're getting even."

"No," Payson says, "Austin, you heard what Sasha said this morning. No retaliation. Do I really need to tell you how idiotic it is to call Sasha's bluff?"

"I'm with Payson on this one," Conrad says. At least someone sees how the consequences outweigh the benefits. "Aus, you aren't gonna do anything. Getting kicked out of the best gym in the country when you're gunnin' for the Olympics is downright dumb. I, on the other hand, am no longer a gymnast here, therefore can do as I damn please."

Payson frowns. "Connie, not what I meant."

"Atta boy!" Austin cheers, clasping Conrad's shoulder. "Pay, call KP. You know she'll sell out her gym for you and not even care. Call her and ask if Denver trashed our gym."

"I still think this is idiotic."

Austin gives her his begging puppy eyes and despite her better judgment, Payson goes through her list of contacts in search of Kelly's name. If not for Austin or gym pride then out of curiosity and as an excuse to call Kelly and see how she is. They've barely spoken since Valentine's Day, but according to Faith, Kelly is finally pulling it together.

When the phone finally stops ringing, Payson's bombarded with noise, so much so that she has to pull her cell a safe distance away from her ear. It must be loud because it distracts everyone from watching Austin and Conrad play the hand-slap game like two children at recess.

"Hello?" Payson says. "Kelly?"

"Naw, Kelly can't come to the phone right now. She's a lil' busy. Yo, who dis? You sound _fine_. What can Flex Jordan—best believe _the_ baddest motherfucker in Denver—do for you, baby?"

Flex Jordan. And intoxicated, Payson would guess.

She frowns, not wanting to believe what she's hearing. What is Kelly doing with Flex?

"Flex Jordan, as in the best gymnast in the whole, wide universe, right?" Payson plays dumb, pulling upon Austin's Kobalt arm candy girls as inspiration.

Flex chuckles. "You heard right."

"I also heard that the Rocky Mountain Something gym got _trashed_ last night," Payson says, with forced enthusiasm that makes her a little disgusted with herself. Her little act draws Austin and Conrad's full attention and the two wait for an explanation. "When I heard that, I thought to myself, the DE boys had to be behind it. Who else would be that badass?"

"Depends. Who wants to know?"

"A friend of Kelly's."

"Shit. Parker's got _friends_? Well, Friend of Kelly's, you're right. It was the easiest thing in the world, gettin' in there, having a little fun with Belov sleepin' right outside in his sardine can. Shit was cray. Now we're here at KP's for the victory party. You should head here and I'll show you how brave I can be…"

"Can't wait. Be there soon." Payson's voice goes monotone as she says those last few words and ends the call. Flex Jordan makes her skin crawl. She turns to her friends who're anxiously waiting for answers. "Flex told me himself. The elitists are responsible for the vandalism."

"I knew it!" Austin and Becca shout together.

"Pay, what's Flex doin' answering Kelly's phone?" Conrad asks. He tries to be casual about his question, but from the urgency in his voice, it's obvious his concern runs deep.

"Apparently, there's a party at Kelly's. This doesn't feel right. We need to go there _now_." Payson grabs her coat, turns to her younger sister and says, "Becca, tell mom we're going to Kelly's. I don't know what time I'll be home, but I'll call. And don't mention the party."

"I don't know, Pay…"

"Becks, it's Kelly," Payson says. Her sister nods. Kelly is practically apart of the family and Keelers take good care of their family.

As they get ready to leave, Payson calls Faith to see if she knows what's going on. When she answers, Payson can tell just by the sound of Faith's voice that she's upset. Payson brings up the party at Kelly's and Faith says she's with Nicky and they'll meet her at the Parkers House. Payson and the boys quickly get into Austin's sports car and head to Denver.

Last summer, Kelly's house served as the stage for the Livestream performance. Unlike the giant, isolated mansion Payson remembers, now there are cars packed bumper to bumper all along the long driveway and down the street. People everywhere, an older crowd, less teenage wannabes and more straight-up groupies. The boys are immediately drawn to Flex's car out front (with his vanity plate "FLEXXX1") and circle it like sharks drawn to blood.

Before Payson reaches the door, she hears Faith shout her name and the auburn-haired girl runs up behind her in an almost manic state, caught between worrying and wanting to kick ass. Nicky is with her, never too far behind. While Faith can't shut up, listing her grievances for Payson, Nicky is silent per usual. The three go inside and find an absolute madhouse.

"Are my eyes fucking with me? Faith Giancana!" A guy shouts, making his way over. He's short and muscular in the way elite gymnasts are. His head is completely shaved and his eyes are as red as his cheeks and ears. "Faith! Couldn't stay away from me, huh?"

"Oh, Joey, hey. Long time no see? Well, I'm a little busy, so…look who else is here!" Faith grabs Nicky by the arm and literally shoves him into Joey..

"Nicky Russo, you freak! What mad lab have you been hiding in, yo? Still training for the _Special_ Olympics?" Joey hooks his arm around Nicky's neck and ruffles his hair.

With Joey distracted, Faith tugs Payson by the wrist and leans in close to her ear. "Joey O'Doherty, DE's court jester. We made out _once_ like, two years ago on a dare from Kelly and _no one_ will let me live it down!" Faith rests her hand on Payson's shoulder and uses it as leverage, rising to her tiptoes, attempting to see over the crowd. "Where is Kelly?"

"FLEX, GET YOUR STUPID PEOPLE OUT OF MY HOUSE! NOW!"

"I have an idea," Payson says.

The two follow the sound of Kelly's high-pitch scream and find her in the next room, making fists and bearing her teeth. All her aggression is aimed at Flex, who isn't the slightest bit threatened, relaxing on the couch with a scantily clad girl under each arm. He's wearing sunglasses indoors and Payson strongly doubts they're Kobalt brand.

"Joey's so drunk he almost kissed me," Nicky complains, walking up beside them in the doorway to the sitting room. "You're welcome, Faith."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we have bigger fish to nix, Nix."

"Kelly!" Payson calls out. "What is going on?"

At the sight of familiar faces, Kelly's rage drops to a slightly above normal level of annoyance. She walks over, her coffee-colored hair carelessly framing her face in teased waves since her signature buns have been taken down after a day of practice. When Payson gets a closer look at her gymnast friend, she notices how Kelly seems changed and a lot healthier.

"My house is a zoo!" Kelly shouts. "What are you even doing here? Tell me word about this stupid party hasn't spread to Boulder. This entire thing is a mess!"

"No. At least, I hope not. Flex answered your phone. I got a little worried so we came over," Payson explains. "Austin and Conrad are here too."

"We planned this a while ago," Kelly explains, "a sort of Fuck You Too, Dad, once he eventually left again, but that was before." Payson raises her eyebrows and Kelly scowls. "Oh, like you two weren't in the next room, listening to me and Mrs. K. Whatever. All I know is I am _way_ too sober to see my house destroyed! I want them gone!"

"It'll be okay. Just breathe, Parks. I'm on it." Nicky reaches out and touches Kelly's elbow, moving his fingers in a comforting line up her arm. It shocks them all when Kelly doesn't violently pull away or start beating him, but instead, noticeably relaxes. Faith, on the other hand, digs her fingers into the back of Payson's hand, apparently not a fan of what she sees.

Before Nicky can walk past her, Kelly catches his arm. "I don't need you to save me."

"Friends help friends," Nicky says. "Let me help."

With her hand still on his arm, Kelly meets his gaze, eye contact in its truest, most intimate form. After a long moment of them communicating through looks alone, Kelly gives him a nod. Nicky nods back and goes over to the DJ.

"I swear, Kelly Parker, if he cheats on Kaylie Cruz with you I will kick both of your NK asses!" Faith shouts. She really isn't improving on the subtlety thing. Not that Faith is trying either.

Kelly laughs, amused. "Leave the ass kicking to me, Faye. You suck at it."

"I'm serious." Faith goes to stand right in front of Kelly, blocking the gymnast's view of her newly reinstated bestie. "Like I told Nicky on the drive here, I'm not friends with cheaters."

"_So_ dramatic," Kelly says. "Honestly, Faith, I am _not_ about to jump him so stop looking at me like you're expecting me to."

"It wouldn't sound so crazy if you could see the way you look at him!" Faith turns to Payson for validation, but she just washes her hands of it. "Kelly, _that_, seconds ago, _eye spooning_! Eye fucking's more adorable cousin. It was practically foreplay!"

Kelly smacks Faith's upper arm, not pleased with the observation.

"I have a question," Payson says. She's surprised when they turn to her and wait for her to go on instead of chasing each other around in Tom and Jerry circles. "What? When? How? Why?"

"Not important, Keeler."

"They're friends again," Faith says. "This morning officially when they went hiking _alone_, but she sorta initiated it yesterday. According to Kelly, she's giving him another chance _because_ _she can_. And it freaks me out a little every time they so much as look at each other!"

"Okay, Faith, stop." Kelly playfully shoves her, pretending Faith's wide smile isn't contagious. "Now that Payson's all caught up, how do we get these freaks out of my house?"

A moment of quiet takes over and that's when the three realize that it's literally quiet. The music stopped. The girls all turn to the DJ, a lanky man with orange dreadlocks and oversized clothes, packing up his equipment as Nicky oversees. It takes only seconds for Flex to notice, get up off his ass and charge over like a wild animal going in for the kill.

"Yo, Ginger Dreads, what up, man?" Flex yells at the DJ. "I don't pay you to pull shit on me, white boy. Did I say you could stop?"

"Party's over." Nicky raises his voice while maintaining his usual callous air. "That goes for everyone!" Nicky shouts, glancing around the room. "I said the party's over! Go home!"

Flex takes a step forward in his custom Nikes and sizes up Nicky, who isn't about to back down. Kelly pushes her way through the crowd, trying to get to the center of the action.

"Who you think you are, son?" Flex almost laughs. "I sure as fuck didn't invite you."

"Fuck off, Flex," Kelly sneers. Despite being tiny in comparison to both the guys, she boldly moves between them, backing up against Nicky and trying to get him to step away. "He's with me. If you forgot, this is _my house_. You need to get your shit and your groupies and _get out_."

Flex falls back so he can frame both Kelly and Nicky in his line of vision. Trying to play it cool, Flex pulls his sunglasses to sit atop his head and smirks. "This your new boy, Parker? _This guy_ does it for ya? He's got balls, fasho. I'll give 'im that much. Ha, can I watch when you tell Cooper about your new pasty boy? It never gets old, watching you reject the poor bastard."

Kelly is ready to attack Flex, but then Joey runs in, stealing the attention of the room. "Flex! Yo, dude, someone totally fucked up your Lambo! You gotta see this!"

Flex doesn't spare a second before dashing for the door, not hesitating to knock people down.

"Why the hell are the rest of you just standing around? Show's over!" Kelly yells. "You heard Nick! Everyone, out!" People begin to file out, unhappy about their fun being interrupted. Kelly sweeps her fingers through her hair and notices Nicky grinning at her. "What?"

"You called me Nick."

Kelly rolls her eyes. "Shut up and go check all the rooms." Nicky follows orders and Kelly's eyes linger on him until he completely disappears. Payson clears her throat and Faith anxiously twists from side to side. "What? I already know what you're thinking. Don't. I'm way more interested in seeing what idiot is stupid enough to mess with Flex's car."

Then it dawns on Payson. "Austin."

Without even addressing her friends' confusion, Payson makes a beeline for the front door, smoothly maneuvering around the bummed strangers. She walks down the driveway until she sees the aerodynamic sports car with a huge rear wing and stripes running down the length. Upon closer inspection, Payson notices the long, deep scratches in the door that spell out: revenge is a bitch.

It's no surprise when Flex picks Austin and Conrad out of the crowd. "You punk ass Rock bitches! The fuck!"

"Damn, I dunno, Flex." Austin smirks. "Well, there is this little thing they called karma."

"You're dead, Tucker!" Unlike when he approached Nicky, Flex has lost his cool completely. "We'll see how well you do in Jacksonville with broken ribs and a smashed in face!"

"Try me."

Flex lunges and Austin is prepared for it, but Conrad intervenes just as Payson runs up.

"Stop!" Payson shouts. "We're all supposed to be competing in a couple days, representing our gyms and our country. Look around! If the neighbors haven't called the cops to break up the party then someone surely will when you two start beating each other on the front lawn! Just, stop! The last thing any of us needs is bad press."

Taking a look around, many have their phones out, waiting to get the punches on tape.

"Keeler's right." Austin fixes the lapels of his leather jacket, still eyeing Flex and still ready if anything were to escalade. "DE douche, you aren't worth the effort anyways."

"Big talk. Too bad your gymnastics ain't as badass as your mouth is big, Tucker." Flex spits. He literally spits at Austin. "I've been meaning to change up the Lambo's look anyways. C'mon, guys, this shit's lame. We out."

"Quickest way to a man's heart is through his exhaust pipe," Austin says, watching Flex get in his car while the rest of his entourage scatters like ants. Austin is so full of pride, and when he turns to Payson, her expression is the exact opposite. "Pay, don't look at me like that."

"Sasha said no retaliation, Austin."

"He said that because he has to, but if he had legit evidence it was Denver Elite like we did, he'd approve. We don't call him the former bad boy of gymnastics for nothing."

Payson remains resilient in her refusal to agree with him and Austin frowns.

"Keeler…"

"Don't be mad at him, Pay," Conrad says. "I'm the one who keyed it."

"But you weren't the one egging him on, about to get into a fistfight!" she argues. "What if you did get into a fight, Austin? One click and it would have ended up on YouTube. The two top male gymnasts in the U.S. in a physical altercation _days_ before the World Cup!"

"But it didn't, Payson."

"But it could have," she says. "Why would you even think to risk it?"

"Some things are worth fighting for," Austin says.

Payson shakes her head hard. "Pride is never worth it."

"Hey, it's okay!" Faith does what she does best—buts in. She goes to stand between her friends, going into counselor mode. "I'm the last person who should be lecturing on doing stupid things, but, Aus, Payson has a point. That was stupid. But, Pay, he's right too. Nothing happened. There's no use getting upset over nothing, right?"

Payson doesn't respond and neither does Austin. Their eyes lock, ignoring all else, engaging in an entirely different kind of eye contact, far from foreplay.

"Okay, Parks, I checked every room in the house. Everyone cleared out. We've got some cleaning to do, but no major damage." Nicky joins the gymnastics camp crew plus Conrad.

"Who're you?" Austin growls. He's still worked up from the almost-fight with Flex and the halfway-argument with Payson, in need of an outlet. Nicky Russo literally walked into this one.

"Jerk-Off," Faith murmurs.

The high school senior narrows his eyes, but mostly in confusion. "I usually go by Nicky. Hi?"

Conrad's eyes go to Kelly, who's oddly quiet. Everything about the way she carries herself says she'd rather be anywhere, but here right now.

"He's the one?" Conrad asks. "The infamous Jerk-Off? Kinda short, ain't he?"

"I'm 5'11 actually, which isn't _that _short," Nicky says. He's still confused as to why he even has to defend himself. "And how did I get this nickname?"

"Oh, sorry. No one told you? Well, would you rather we call you the Little Shit Who Ruined KP? Kinda long for a nickname, but, hey, it suits you." Austin stares Nicky down, succeeding in making him uncomfortable. Payson moves closer, feeling like she's been babysitting all day.

"Yeah," Nicky says. "I guess I deserve that…"

"You do," Kelly assures him. "But not from him. Back off, Austin."

"KP, don't tell me you're letting this guy back in after everything he put you through."

"Don't," Kelly hisses. "It's none of your business who I'm friends with or not."

"Actually, it is. It's all of our business," Austin argues, motioning around. "You made it our business with every time you turned into a drunk sloppy mess and we had to clean up after you. All because this _Jerk-Off_ fucked you over! Why would you do this to yourself? Why would you _want_ to run back to the thing that hurt you? I don't get it."

"Tuck, cool it, man." Conrad grabs him by the shoulder, pulling him away. "You're going into big bro mode and it ain't pretty. We should just…go home. Don't you think?"

"Con's right. Home stat, Handsome. We've got everything under control here." Faith gives Conrad a look and the boy with the crew cut gets the message, starting to drag Austin away.

Austin loudly exhales, rising and dropping his shoulders. He has all this emotion swelling up inside and doesn't know how else to expel it. "Yeah, okay. Pay, let's get you home."

"Actually, I think I'll stay here tonight." Payson looks to Kelly. "If that's okay."

"Anytime," Kelly says.

Instead of their usual hugs and teasing, Austin and Conrad say a quiet goodbye before heading home. That leaves Payson with the trio affectionately named "FKN" and a giant, trashed house. While they start cleaning, Payson calls home to tell her mom the plan.

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy?" Kelly complains as she dumps a plastic cup of beer into the sink. "I get that he was pissed thanks to Flex, but taking it out on me? And Austin doesn't even know Nick, but attacked him anyways. That is Shit List behavior."

"He was heated. It happens." Faith chimes in as the voice of reason. "Austin has a little sister so being protective is instinct. I see it in him all the time, especially last summer."

"He did have a point about me," Nicky says. "If I were him I'd hate me too."

Kelly stops what she's doing and gives Nicky a look so tender she doesn't seem like Kelly Parker at all or at least, not the one Payson is used to. Nicky brings out this side of her. Payson quietly wonders if either of them even realizes it.

"Hey, Nick, shut up," Kelly snaps. "What did we say this morning? Over it. Moving on. Out on the lawn, that wasn't even about you or me. Austin was just looking for excuses to be an ass. Payson, you should really tell your boyfriend to look into anger management."

"I've never seem him that upset before," Payson says. "I mean, I've noticed him more agitated and stressed lately, but tonight and even this morning with Sasha…Austin's like a ticking time bomb and it's getting worse."

"So, I'm guessing we should scratch Project Kelly's Intervention and consider having one for Austin instead?" Faith asks. She's mostly joking, trying to lighten the mood, but for a second, Payson finds herself seriously considering the idea.

Nicky tries to joke that Austin probably wouldn't enjoy the male strippers they planned to hire for Kelly's intervention and Kelly scoffs, annoyed that they thought she needed an intervention in the first place. As the pieces of FKN slowly start to form something whole, something new, Payson can't stop thinking about Austin. One of these days he really is going to explode and Payson's afraid she won't be enough to diffuse it.

...

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><p><strong>Authors' Note:<strong> Hey, everyone! Miss us? Even better question: is anyone still reading this?

1) New chapters! Yay!

2) **Girl in the Striped Scarf **made us a Tumblr (**creativedummyfanfix . tumblr . com**) #bigleaguesyo

3) At our new, shiny Tumblr, you can find **We Are Young vol. 2** a fanmix by **Sparklespaz716**, songs that go incredibly well with WeFaB and downloadable too.

Well, what'd you think? Hopefully, you're as excited as we are! If not, on the next _Do I Dare Disturb the Universe? _you get to see the Nickelly reunion! Nickelly & FKN fans, we're aware we put your hearts in a great big blender and hit purée for like, twenty chapters + LLD. Well, it's finally time for some mending…

**Review.**

#WeFaB #LLD2 #LLDforever


	13. All of the Lights

**Warning**: We can't tell you how to read the story, but we meant for it to be four separate stories, intertwined by a common series of events, in one fic. Also, it's still 2011.

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><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

Henley Sheppard may be a strange creature from another world, but she gets the Lauren Tanner seal approval—not an easy feat. Henley may be book smart, but Lauren is street smart and so Lauren figures out a way to make Henley's strengths work to her advantage.

Letting her stay at her house should be payment enough, but Lauren admits it's fun to barter things in her closet for homework. So far, Henley has gotten a pair of sunglasses and a couple of Lauren's favorite wrap bracelets in exchange for doing an analytical essay and a couple math exercises. If there's one language they both speak fluently its negotiations and fashion.

"Your essay, Miss Tanner." Marcus distributes graded papers towards the end of English class while all the students chatter away. He lays it facedown on her desk and continues to make his way down the aisle. Lauren turns it over and smiles at the A and _improvement _underlined in red ink. "One question, Lauren. I don't mean to offend you, but—"

"Then you probably shouldn't say it," Lauren says.

"Alright. Fair advice," Marcus agrees. Lauren tries to control her smile despite the triumph that surges through her. "Nice work. See what you can do when you apply yourself?"

Marcus continues to pass out papers while Lauren looks over the essay in front of her. The fact that the ideas aren't hers doesn't spoil the victory. Lauren edits what Henley writes, switching out the unnecessarily verbose diction and adding personal touches to make it sound like her. It isn't copy/paste plagiarism. Grades are important when considering college and Lauren is clearly on her way. She's resourceful. It's admirable.

When Marcus doubles around, he stops next to Emily's desk. "And this…wasn't your best." Lauren can't help, but lean over, silently wincing at all the red pen marks, mostly scribbled comments and question marks in the margins. The final grade: C+. Marcus is guilty of inflating his grades so it must have been a really poor argument. "Are you sure you two didn't accidentally write your names on the wrong papers?"

"Offensive, Marcus," Lauren chimes.

"Statement retracted," he says. "Emily, there wasn't enough analysis in your essay. I read the book myself, a number of times over. You didn't have to tell me what they were saying. I wanted you to tell me what they meant, their motivations, the words inside their words. Just keep that in mind for next time. I'm sure you'll make it up in no time."

"I hope so." Skimming through the essay, Emily is mortified. With them living together, Lauren asked Emily a number of times how things were going, but all she did was stare at a blank Word document and say it was fine.

"Em, maybe you should just talk to your mom again."

"And what, Lo? She'll apologize, but Bruce will still be there and he's never going to change and I'm just going to run away again." Emily rubs her eyes and Lauren shoots glares around the room, urging the onlookers to screw off. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. If you can't rant to me then what am I good for? I just don't like seeing you so miserable. Emo Emily is depressing."

"I'm sorry, Looney Lauren." Emily smiles faintly. "As if things aren't hard enough, _everything_ reminds me of Damon. The guys at the Shack randomly bring him up in conversation and they have no idea we dated. I buy lunch and the cafeteria workers are listening to his stupid single. I walk down the hall and Maeve Benson has a picture of him in her locker. What's with that?"

"Ew. Henley isn't the only one not taking her crazy pills." When she hears herself, Lauren winces. "Sorry. It slipped. And she totally is taking her crazy pills. I watched her last night."

"I was there," Emily reminds her. "She called you Warden Barbie."

"And I thought she couldn't get weirder after day one. She keeps proving me wrong," Lauren says. "But, anyways, back to Damon. It isn't like he's tried to talk to you again."

"I know. Maybe the universe—"

"Don't, Em. Don't be one of those people who leave things up to the universe and wait for the stars to align. We make our own destinies." Lauren squeezes her arm. "You wanted him to screw off and leave you alone. I'm pretty sure that was the message you sent him on V Day."

"Honestly, I don't know anything anymore. The more I try to get over him the more it feels like I'm just lying to myself."

Just as Kaylie walks in (after being called to the office) the bell rings and everyone races past her to get to the cafeteria. Marcus hands Kaylie her essay while the other two shove their books into their bags. Once they make their way to the door, Lauren slings her arm around Emily's waist. With their height difference, it's just easier that way.

"Hey, Kay," Lauren says. "What did Matsui want? Let me guess, you're winning some kind of prefect award for being the perfect little model student you are?"

"Not even close. My mom called the office and told them she had to talk to me and that it was an emergency. Turns out, she was tired of me not answering her calls on my cell—as if I'm not in class, trying to learn things—and wanted to remind me to pick up some stuff for the party."

"How very Ronnie," Lauren says. To her face, she'd definitely address the woman properly by Mrs. Cruz, but AJ calls her by her first time and with how much Lauren's been talking to him lately, it just sort of slips. "So are your besties—and by that, I mean Em, Pay and me—invited to this fancy Cruz get-together?"

"It isn't exactly a boozer party, Lo," Kaylie points out.

"Okay, I'm offended you think the only kind of parties I go to involve hot, college boys, kegs and sloppy, impressionable girls getting taken advantage of!"

"Plus, the guest list includes boring, stuffy old people," Kaylie says. "I'll be standing around in heels, smiling until I lose feeling in my face all night. _I_ don't even want to be there. Nicky wants to be there even less, but he doesn't have a choice. It's a work thing for my mom so there's a high chance a _certain recording artist_ will be there, schmoozing for the bosses."

"That settles it," Emily says. "Count me out. Invitation unnecessary."

Kaylie frowns and links her arm with Emily. "Want me to at least keep tabs on him?"

Lauren scoffs. "The last thing she needs is to hear about her ex flirting with the girls serving shrimp balls."

"No, I don't want to know." Emily stare at the floor, letting her dark bangs fall in her eyes. "Out of contact, out of mind, right? He'll do whatever he's here to do and then he'll be gone."

Kaylie nods. "Whatever you want, Em."

"So, did Maeve get an invite?" Lauren doesn't care if she sounds jealous.

"No, she didn't."

"You know what else Maeve didn't get invited to?" Picking up the ball before it drops, Emily easily segues into a different topic. Despite her problems, she still makes an effort to be a good friend. "The sleepover tonight. Payson got the okay from her mom so we're having it at Lauren's house."

"_Our_ house," Lauren corrects her. She lightly bumps her hip against Emily's. "I'm picking up Pay and we're going to hit up the grocery while you tutor and you cheer. Text me whatever you might want. Gotta love sleepover parties in the middle of the week."

"Well, it only makes sense. Payson doesn't need us keeping her up and distracted the night before she flies to Florida," Kaylie says. "School is going to be a bitch tomorrow, though."

"At least we start late on Wednesdays," Emily interjects. "Then again, you two have to get up two hours before school to get ready."

Lauren smiles at Kaylie. "F.H.O."

Kaylie smiles back. "Face. Hair. Outfits."

Emily shakes her head at the two. "Do me a favor and let me sleep in."

Lauren frowns and tugs Emily a little closer, who in turn tugs Kaylie with her. It reminds all three of how they're connected.

"Hey, ladies!" Max steps in front of the trio and holds up his camera. "For the yearbook?"

"Wait, my hair!" Kaylie frets, smoothing down the dark strands. "And my lipgloss."

"Yearbook." Lauren groans, seeing the way Max is smiling at her and not liking it. "My least favorite word in the English language."

"Harsh. Don't disrespect my craft," Max says. "Walk with me to the meeting? There's something I've been meaning to pick your brain about."

"Unless it's Chanel or Louis, I don't know if there's much to pick," Kaylie says.

"Won't your girlfriend beat you if you don't check in with her first?" Lauren asks. Emily nudges her and Kaylie narrows her eyes. "What? She gives off the Boyfriend Beater vibe."

"Yank the chain a little maybe. How nice of you to worry, Lauren," Max jests. "Maeve has a prom committee meeting so I figured I'd go straight to yearbook right after I take a picture of you three. I don't know. Something about the way you're all entwined like that."

"Any chance of me getting to leave earlier if I show up earlier?" Lauren asks.

"I can't make promises."

Lauren's shoulders sink in disappointment. The joy of sitting around and listening to people who care too much about angles and lighting, things no one else even notices.

"You should go ahead. It'll keep you out of trouble when I'm not around to keep an eye on you," Emily says, only half-joking. "I've got tutoring anyways."

"Who with?"

"Me," Kaylie pipes in. "My math grade is _bad_. Nicky was trying to help me out the other day. _Never again_. I'm pretty sure we can cross teacher off his future occupations list."

"Tell me about it," Max says. "Back when we were kids I asked Nicky to teach me how to do a backflip. I fell off the trampoline and broke my arm. Then he told me it's my fault for asking him in the first place instead of asking a professional. Your boyfriend is a jerk." Max smiles at Kaylie and she smiles back. "And how is the happy couple today?"

"Happy," Kaylie answers. "And don't go jinxing it, Max!"

"I can't make promises on that either." He chuckles. "Okay, picture?"

Their smiles vary in degree and Max catches the differences between with the click of his camera. He takes three just to be sure before Lauren untangles herself and listens to Max as he battles with himself over finally ended it with Maeve. Lauren doesn't take him too seriously. Whipped boys never last when they try to quit a girl cold turkey.

Once school is out, Lauren goes to the Rock as planned. She waits out in the parking lot and plays with her phone. Razor hasn't been texting her, fed up with her not returning his texts. She was ready to call him yesterday, but then she saw Emily browsing Facebook, specifically pictures of Razor and his ex. _Again_. After Carter, Lauren promised she wouldn't fall for guys who already have a High Priority Girl.

When Payson finally walks out of the Rock, Austin is at her side as always. He grabs her hand and she quickly pulls away. He doesn't look too happy about it, but doesn't get upset either. He waves and Payson waves back before she walks over to Lauren's car.

"Well, that was a romantic goodbye," Lauren teases.

Payson slides into the passenger seat and shuts the door. "We weren't exactly at an airport."

"I wonder," Lauren purrs, "have you and Austin ever talked about having sex?"

The way Payson's cheeks flush has to be the most adorable thing. Lauren can barely hold back her squeal. The feeling doesn't even fade when Payson narrows her eyes, trying to use anger to cover her embarrassment.

"Lauren!"

"Payson, you're such a twelve-year-old girl and if you forgot, you're dating _a man_."

"With the mental age of a fifteen-year-old boy, sometimes an eight-year-old"

"So, have you talked about doing the dirty? Don't be Poopy Payson! I want the girly deets!"

Lauren didn't think it was possible for one person's face to turn that deep a shade of red.

"No," Payson says. Ugh, boring. "But it's implied that nothing along those lines is happening until _after_ the Olympics."

"Boring." Lauren couldn't keep that one to herself. "And Austin is okay with this?"

"If he seriously wants to be with me then he has to be."

"Let me get this straight. You are in a stable relationship, but won't give it up. Meanwhile, on the other side of the spectrum, Kaylie is in a relationship _always_ on the borderline of breaking and she can't get it even if she's desperate to." Lauren smiles a little. She feels a little bad for wanting to laugh every time Kaylie complains about getting cockblocked. The poor thing is so sexually frustrated and doesn't know what to do about it.

"Speaking of Kaylie," Payson clears her throat, "I've been thinking about what you said and, as her friends, I think we should tell her. Tonight."

Lauren hits the breaks a little too hard at a stoplight. Thank God they're both wearing seatbelts. Lauren turns to give Payson her undivided attention. "Wh—what?"

"Are you sure you actually got your license!"

"Payson, not important! Why are you talking like a crazy person?"

"I'm not crazy. Nicky is never going to do it and I can't watch Kaylie agonize over it anymore. I hate how she's afraid to talk to me because I'm friends with Kelly and Faith, but there's nothing I can do about it. This is something I can do for her. _We_ can. It isn't even a matter of her being upset with us about knowing and not telling her. The fact of the matter is she's hurting and it is just going to hurt even more the longer it draws out."

"Hello, Super Girl, didn't you get the memo? Nicky and Kelly _made up_."

"Exactly! Things are changing. This whole thing could snowball out of control and the longer we wait, the bigger the mess is going to be."

"Payson, it's already a snowball! It's the size of a friggin' house! It's too late now. If she found out before—when Kelly wasn't apart of his life—that pill Kaylie could have swallowed. But now it'll just make things worse. No girl wants to hear her boyfriend is hanging out with his old fuck buddy. Who knows? Maybe if we burry it, they can all learn to get along?"

Payson deadpans. "Lauren, have you met Kaylie and Kelly?"

"Okay, fine, but it's all about timing and right now is not the time. Their anniversary is coming up and the Colorado Classic. And her birthday! As her friends, we should cheer her up and that's what we're doing tonight." When Payson doesn't readily respond, Lauren grows curious. "Pay, does Kelly want him back? You know what I mean."

"She doesn't want to want him, if that makes sense." Payson pauses, unsure of what loyalties she might be crossing by being honest. "But there's something about the way they are when they're together. Even Faith is worried something might happen."

"And what about you?"

"It makes me nervous…for Kaylie."

Lauren doesn't like that Payson is friends with Kelly Parker almost as much as she doesn't like the fact that Kaylie is BFFs with Maeve Benson, but that isn't within her control.

"Watch your friend, Payson," Lauren growls. "If she hurts Kaylie, intentionally or not, being friends with you isn't going to do her any good when it comes to me."

"That's always been one of my favorite things about you, you know, how fiercely protective you are." Payson gives her a smile. "Also one of the scariest." Lauren grins, proud. "Do me a favorite and look out for Kaylie. I know she doesn't talk to me like she talks to you guys…"

"On the contrary, she texted a whole bunch of hashtag-Kaylie-Problems to Emily this past weekend and conveniently left me out of the loop," Lauren explains. "Emily was dealing with things so she didn't reply. It makes me wonder who Kaylie _is_ talking to, clearly not Nicky."

"Regardless, you have better access than I do," Payson says. "Watch your friends, Lo."

Lauren smiles, almost laughs. Payson could never mime Lauren's viciousness.

"At least you're bringing Homewrecker Parker with you to Florida. If anything, it'll be a breather for Kaylie. She can have Nicky all to herself."

Silence follows, but Lauren doesn't apologize for calling Kelly a homewrecker and Payson doesn't call her out on it either.

"Emily too," Payson says after a while. "I know I get busy…"

"We get it. We'll never love you any less, Payson. With Em, she's hurting over so many different things. She needs tonight too. I was thinking and I wanted to bring out the jeans to cheer Kaylie up, remind her why she fell for Nicky in the first place, but Emily…"

"Yeah, we should probably steer clear," Payson says, without even needing a complete thought. "Check your music for tonight, make sure none of Damon's songs come up."

"Did it last night."

Payson looks genuinely surprised for a second and then her expression easily turns to admiration, something Lauren isn't used to seeing, especially directed towards her.

"You know, I knew you changed a lot after last summer, but you've changed even more since we got back," Payson says. "And I mean that in a good way. I'm proud of you, Lo."

Lauren suddenly breaks out in a grin. "Payson Keeler, are we having a moment? It feels like we're totally having a moment."

"Just don't expect me to let you paint my face and nails tonight."

"Be ready to eat your words, Super Girl." Lauren smiles, staring at the road ahead. "Homemade facials and mani-pedis are totes on the itinerary for tonight!"

Especially with the constant drama pedaling through her life, Lauren knows how to appreciate a moment. What she loves most is that she controls it. Why curse the universe when you can just as easily control what it gives you?

…

_Sinequan_.

That's the name printed on the bottle of pills Henley refers to an a "unnecessary vehicles of productivity disruption." Emily only snuck a peek at it once, but she repeated it several times in her head. First she's Googling cocaine and now, apparently, antidepressants.

Her Google search tells her that it's a tricyclic antidepressant used primarily to treat depression and anxiety. The article then goes on to explain about an imbalance in levels of neurotransmitters and how it works to elevate levels of serotonin and noerepinephrine. It also confirmed that one of the main side effects is drowsiness, which can be problematic for a machine that runs on productivity like Henley Sheppard.

Henley is the primary reason they move the sleepover to Lauren's instead of following tradition and having the Keelers host. Leaving Henley alone with the History Channel in the Tanner house while they're at school is drastically different from leaving her alone at night.

At the sleepover, they're all in the living room with _Clueless_ playing. Payson is in the next room, on the phone with Austin (they all simultaneously aww-ed when she answered) and Lauren is popping the popcorn in the kitchen. Henley has her laptop out, eyes trained on the screen, in an entirely different mental dimension.

"What's wrong, Kay?" Emily asks.

Lowering her voice, Kaylie asks, "Is Lauren really forcing her to do her homework?"

That is territory Emily refuses to breach.

"Kaylie, I hear you talking about me!" Lauren saunters in with a bowl of popcorn. "Henley, am I forcing you to do my homework?"

"Who, you? No, you'd never," Henley says, with such obvious sarcasm. Without looking up from her laptop, Henley adds, "I want the pretty, textured-leather shoulder bag."

Lauren turns to smile at Kaylie. "See. She wants the pretty bag. Leave her alone, Kay."

Kaylie rolls her eyes. "You're honestly okay with this, Em?"

"I have no part in it," Emily says. "As long as they aren't trying to kill each other then they can do whatever they want." Emily stretches her long legs out in front of her and leans closer to Kaylie. "I know for a fact that isn't all you're thinking about. What's really wrong, Kaylie?"

"Oh, goodie!" Lauren shouts with mock excitement. "Things are finally starting to get interesting. Status update on Hashtag-Kaylie-Problems!"

"Lo, can you not hashtag my life?" Kaylie rolls her eyes. "So, when you're friends with a guy, do you really talk to him as if you were talking with a girl and vice versa?"

Emily answers, "yes," while Lauren says, "no," and Henley, eavesdropping, laughs.

"I talk to Razor as if I was talking to one of you," Emily volunteers. "And sometimes when he talks about his girl trouble it even feels exactly like letting one of you vent."

"Girl trouble?" Lauren asks. Emily presses her lips together and Lauren doesn't pry. "I know. Lips sealed. Hands tied."

After comfortingly touching Lauren's arm, Emily turns to Kaylie. "Why do you ask?"

"Things are really good with Nicky right now, but it's a little weird to me that Nicky tells Faith, and probably Kelly, things about us. _Intimate_ things about us, or as intimate as things get."

Lauren laughs. "Duh. Kaylie, he doesn't have friends. Who else is he supposed to tell?"

"They _are_ his friends so naturally he talks to them," Emily explains.

Kaylie remains doubtful. "It still feels weird. As far as I knew, Carter didn't girl talk with any close girl friends. It was always just the guys on the basketball team and at the Pizza Shack. This is all new for me, but I guess it's just something I need to get used to."

"Here." Lauren shoves the bowl of popcorn into Kaylie's lap. "Eat your feelings."

Kaylie laughs and it makes Emily smile. She thinks Kaylie doesn't laugh enough these days.

Emily winces. "And I still feel bad about not answering your texts over the weekend."

"It's fine, Em, really, especially with everything you've got going on?" Kaylie rubs her hand down the length of her arm. Emily has to tell herself it's concern and not pity.

"I don't want to talk about it," Emily says. "So what did Nicky tell Faith and Kelly this time?"

"About everything, apparently," Kaylie answers. "I'm sorry, but I don't get it. I kind of see why everyone loves Faith, but I don't see what the big deal is. She isn't exactly Regina George."

"I think she's cool?" Emily says. "I haven't talked to her in a while, but, I don't know, it's like, even if she doesn't understand you or what you're going through she still has this way of making you feel understood, you know?"

"And she's hot," Lauren adds, leaning over for a handful of popcorn. "You should see the way guys stare at her at the Rock, _almost_ more than they stare at me. And she's either legit oblivious to it or doesn't care. Pretty badass for a spaz."

Kaylie huffs. "I just think you all think she's cooler than she really is."

"We think that or Nicky thinks that?" Lauren asks. Emily nudges Lauren's calf, warning her to play nice. The blonde puts on a big smile and playfully digs her shoulder into Emily's arm.

"Both. But mostly Nicky…and a little Payson."

The mood in the room shifts as it often does when they discuss Hashtag-Kaylie-Problems. Kaylie's hand dives into the popcorn bowl and Emily does the same. Scoffing at both of them, Lauren reaches for one of the three controllers on the side table.

"I know what'll make us feel better!" With the press of a button, Lauren dims the lights and turns on the rotating, multi-colored disco ball above them.

"You have got to be kidding," Kaylie murmurs.

"Why do you own that?" Henley asks. The expression on her face is clearly one of judgment.

"As if me or daddy would ever buy this. I'm pretty sure one of the stoner kids brought it to one of my boozer parties and left it," Lauren explains. "Payson! Tell Lover Boy goodnight and get off the phone! You're missing out on precious girl time!"

"Lauren," Emily starts, "You don't have to…"

"Nonsense, Em. When life sucks, dance it out. And I know the perfect song!"

Lauren goes over to the sound system and hits a combination of buttons. Loud, bubble gum pop with fast, electronic beats starts pumping from the speakers, so loud it completely drowns out Henley's cry of annoyance. Emily can't help and pinches Kaylie's forearm.

Ronnie Cruz straight from the 80s.

Orange lights chase blues and reds blink. Yellows that seem almost gold flicker along with Kaylie's favorite, pink. Lauren starts dancing among the lights, shaking out her blonde hair, with way too much confidence to ever appear dorky. She looks crazy, but too cool to care.

When Lauren tugs on Kaylie's wrist, the dark-haired girl in pink pajamas is reluctant, but ends up going with it. They sort of just jump around, laughing and smiling. Kaylie loses herself to the music. Something in her face reflects nostalgia, maybe because of her mother's voice or maybe because this is the first time she's had fun with Lauren in a long time.

It takes teamwork between the two to get Emily off the couch and dancing with them. Emily thinks of Conrad Cooper, her last dance partner, for a fleeting moment. Unlike Conrad, who was always a gentleman and kept an appropriate distance, Lauren isn't afraid to get close and knock into Emily, who in turn knocks into Kaylie, making the friends laugh hysterically.

"Come on, E.T!" Lauren shouts at Henley, who remains rooted in her spot. She tries to pull Henley up out of the cushioned chair in the corner, but when she can't get her to move, Lauren just waves her off and goes back to her friends.

Payson walks back into the room and asks, "What's going on?"

"Payson!" Kaylie shout. Maybe it's just the lights racing around or her voice as it mingles with the one from the stereo, but Kaylie actually sounds worry-free for once. As beautiful as it is to see, it also goes to show how unhappy she's become.

"You all look ridiculous," Payson says matter-of-factly.

Her friends swarm around her and don't leave her alone until she starts to move with them. Music. Movement. Merriment. All becomes one. Four become one. They start singing along to the music they grew up with. It's always a silly little feeling when you remember all the words to a song you've completely forgotten about.

When she can't dance anymore, Emily crashes down onto the couch and brings a giggly Kaylie with her. They sit around and laugh at how random that was, equal parts stupid and amazing. Once the excitement dies, Lauren announces that she has dibs on choosing the next movie—_John Tucker Must Die—_a sleepover classic.

Just as the movie begins, Kaylie's phone goes off and she excuses herself to answer it. When Kaylie isn't back for a while, Lauren excuses herself to the bathroom, but they all know she's going to check on Kaylie.

"What do you think is going on?" Emily asks.

Payson readily drags her eyes away from the television and to Emily. She leans towards the doorway and pauses. "No shattering glass, no screaming or crying, so I assume everything is under control. How have they been lately?"

"Kaylie is wrapped up in Hashtag-Kaylie-Problems." Payson rolls her eyes at that, but Emily couldn't help herself. It just goes to show how much time she spends with Lauren. "It doesn't help that Lauren teases her about it and denies she's jealous of Maeve Benson."

Payson laughs softly. "She's _still _in denial about that one?"

"I can't blame Lo. Sometimes, knowing that Kaylie is hanging out with her popular friends when she could be hanging out with us, but chooses not to, I can't help, but feel it to. Not jealous of their popularity, but that they have Kaylie in a way we don't. I'm just being stupid."

"You are not stupid," Payson says. "A little teenage angst never hurt anyone."

Emily laughs and curls up against Payson. "I miss you, you know?"

"I miss you too, Em. Things around the Rock get so crazy sometimes and with Sasha knowing about me and Austin and Austin's temper that he won't talk to me about…"

"At least things with Kelly are better, right?" Looking on the bright side had always been Brian's thing, but Emily needs it now more than ever.

"I get _detailed_—sometimes _too_ detailed—updates from Faith and it seems so," Payson replies. "I'll find out firsthand when we go to Florida. Faith asks about you sometimes."

Emily smiles, playing with a stray strand of gold from Payson's ponytail. It's surprising how nice it is to be thought of. "Do me a favor? Next time you see her, ask Faith for a new book recommendation. I could really use a good dose of escapism right now."

"That's what I'm here for." Payson motions to the TV screen. "And the good Mr. Ryan Gosling."

Emily erupts in giggles. The confused look on Payson's face only makes it even more amusing.

"That's Penn Badgley, nowhere near Ryan Gosling!" Emily shouts. Oh, her favorite out of touch with pop culture gymnast. "That's like comparing Carter to Conrad. How even?"

"I know nothing about these things!" Payson shouts back. "I just figured Lauren's t-shirt says _Mrs. Ryan Gosling_ on it and she chose the movie. I didn't think it was too much of a stretch."

Emily sputters, trying to overcome her laughter, and sits up enough to hug Payson, who hugs her right back. Even though she's having problems with her family, hasn't even spoken to her mom or her brother in days, Emily finds comfort where she can.

The next morning, Emily is tired, but squished between Kaylie and Payson, listening to Lauren's rhythmic snoring ("heavy breathing," she calls it) was the best sleep she's had in a long time. As good as it felt to sleep, Emily is exhausted and throughout the day she takes whatever chance she can get to close her eyes.

With her ear pressed to the cold wooden table, tapping fingernails is amplified, making her force her eyes open. Rodge sits across from her, wearing his signature red beanie. His backpack is carelessly plopped down in the middle of the table between them.

"Hey."

"Hey." Emily rubs her eyes.

"I made your mom cry," Rodge says. The way he says it is so enduring and almost childlike. He dramatically winces and clenches his jaw. "Not one of my finest moments."

"Ike told me. I wouldn't worry too much about it." Emily props her elbow up against the table and cradles her cheek in her palm. "It was sort of nice of you, maybe even sweet, taking the time to go over and check on me, but as you can see I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

Emily rubs at her eyes again, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I am. I'm staying with Lauren so it isn't like I'm out on the streets. I have my own cash to live off of, thanks to work and partly thanks to you and Ike. I don't have to worry about some drunk, violent stranger kicking the door down while I'm sleeping at night. Things are better this way."

"Sounds like you have all your bases covered."

And? Emily prides herself on it.

Rodge starts scratching at the desk, but Emily can't see what he's doing exactly. His backpack is in the way. She's about to ask, but then Rodge says, "Your brother misses you."

Her heart sinks and the rest of her follows.

"You talked to my brother?"

"Just in passing." Rodge does that annoying boy thing where he tries to play it cool, pretends he doesn't care, but Emily can easily imagine him loitering in their hall for a run-in with Brian. "Brian's smart like you, but he's still a kid, confused and worried and really angry."

The only part of that that didn't completely break her heart was how Rodge referred to Brian by name and not _the wheelchair kid_ like she'd been half-expecting. He may be a junkie, but he listens to her, an admirable limb among a body of flaws.

"He has a right to be," Emily says. "I feel horrible for just leaving him like that."

Rodge looks up at her and the scratching stops. "You should tell him."

Emily has tried. She's called and called and called. Going back to the Meadows isn't an option. The emotional scars are yet to heal, have barely started to scab and Emily isn't willing to risk it. Maybe if she went to see him after school…

"The greatest thing in family life is to take a hint when a hint is intended and not to take a hint when a hint isn't intended," Rodge says. "Robert Frost."

There's nothing she wants more than to believe there's more to him than wasted potential.

"Do you need something, Rodge?"

"Yeah, actually. I need a tutor."

Her eyes widen. "_You_ need a tutor?"

"You're a wizard at math or so Ike says. Chemistry isn't too far off, right? Calculations, equations and me aren't exactly friends."

Emily slowly looks from side to side. "I am _not_ helping you cook meth."

Rodge stares at her, dumbfounded, but then he gives her a smile and not one of those cool guy smirk things, but a genuine smile where both corners of his mouth lift to show his teeth.

"Shucks. I just stole the key to the chem lab. What a waste," he jokes. "No, I was thinking maybe we could start with the basics or at least enough for me not to pass the class."

Rodge reaches into the front pocket of his backpack and fishes out a crumpled piece of paper. He does his best to iron out the creases with his palm before handing it over to her.

"I only know enough to get by." Emily grimaces at all the red marks on the paper, such angry strokes crossing out almost every other problem. "You're better off going to the tutoring center and asking them to assign someone to you."

"But I want you," Rodge says. The way he says it, slow and with so much emotion it catches Emily off guard. "I can pay you. Upfront cash if you like. I determine my future. Putting some money towards graduating high school sounds worthwhile to me."

Though she knows he won't say it, a little part of Emily suspects this is his way of helping her out. Their community raised them to be fighters and to look out for themselves, but Emily's starting to learn that it can also be a unifier. You find solidarity where you least expect it.

"I don't even charge friends for pizza. I can't take your money for helping you graduate."

"Is that what we are?" Rodge smiles. Emily slides her hand down her other arm. She doesn't want to feel so bashful so suddenly, but she kind of does.

"We start tomorrow. _And_ you need to go to class. All of them, Rodge, including homeroom."

"I'd hardly call homeroom a class." Rodge challenges her with a look and Emily remains stern. Not even five seconds later and Rodge sighs dramatically. "Agreed."

Rodge extends his arm out over the table, holding out his large, angular primate hand. Emily gas to stands to give his hand a shake. Rodge is one of those guys who enjoys messing with people. It's not that he likes her…right? He can't. Emily doesn't know how she'd respond. She only agrees because she's Emily Kmetko and isn't good at turning away someone in need.

"Hey, guys!" At the sound of Carter's voice, Emily quickly pulls her hand away from Rodge. "Just the people I was hoping to find!"

Emily groans and sinks back into her chair. "Carter, I'm exhausted. If you think there's any way I'm taking one of your shifts then you're wasting your time. Brad said something about buying a new bike and needing extra cash."

"Good to know, but not why I'm here. I'm actually looking to _spend_. A little green for green." Carter winks at her and Emily would gag if she weren't already desensitized to Carter being Carter. "I'm freaking out about graduation so I've been smoking maybe a bowl twice a day. My stash is a little low. I could really use it. What do you say, coworker, can you hook me up?"

Emily turns to Rodge, who nods, and she automatically goes into work mode, pulling out her burner phone. She assures Carter that he'll be getting his confirmation text tonight. He grins and thanks her, saying he knew he could count on her. The Royal reaches out to pat Emily on the head, but she ducks away and runs her fingers through her hair, plastering on a smile.

"Aren't we supposed to be keeping it quiet after what happened at the dance?" Emily asks, once Carter is out of earshot.

"Ike and I never get caught." Right after saying that, Rodge knocks on the table. "Kids get caught using, but won't sell us out. If we get screwed, we screw over _everyone_. Then there's no one to supply, which means the delicate, impeccable Royals would have to go into dirty, dangerous Laguna. Trust me. No one's going to talk. So we've got a deal, right? I gotta run."

"Tomorrow after school. Four o'clock sharp."

Rodge nods, slings the strap of his backpack over his shoulder and waves before he leaves. On Rodge's end of the table there's a pair of eyes scratched into the table and Emily is sure it wasn't there when she first sat down. It is an exact replica of all the eyes around Boulder. The sound she heard, how he kept his eyes down except to smile at her. The eyes are Rodge's doing and Emily isn't surprised at all.

…

Kelly Parker is back in Nicky's life and Kaylie is cool with it. She is. Really.

Nicky calls Kaylie a little later than he normally does, but it's fine because she had other things to do. There's always homework and cheerleading and Ronnie has an endless list of ways Kaylie can help prepare for the party. Sure, when her phone rings, she runs to answer it, but it wasn't like she was waiting and checking her phone every few seconds. No.

Kaylie listens as Nicky tells her about the party they broke up and how Austin Tucker doesn't seem to like him very much, something Kaylie can relate to. Then he helped the girls clean up and they watched a movie. Nothing extraordinary happened, but from the way Nicky talks about it, you'd expect FKN (plus Payson) cured cancer over the course of the evening.

When he asks her how she spent her day, Kaylie tells him she babysat Amelia (a form of procrastination) and had a cozy night in. He says they're going to breakfast at the Keeler's in the morning and asks if she wants to go too, but Kaylie decides against it. Payson didn't invite her and something tells her that Kelly and Faith wouldn't take her crashing too well. It's weird, having to share her boyfriend, but he's happier so she tries to be happier for him.

To make matters worse, Maeve is in meltdown mode. When they're driving around, doing errands for Ronnie, Kaylie asks Maeve why she's been so quiet and tense. She didn't expect Maeve to pull out a folder filled with pictures of Max and Lauren and dump them into her lap.

"He had them just hanging on the line in his dark room! If he's going to cheat on me, he could have the decency to do it discretely, the son of a bitch." Maeve hits the gas hard and they fly forward. "His excuse was that he was showing her how to use the self-timer on his camera. Really? Look at us, Lee. We're hot bitches and we have manipulative sluts after our men."

"I don't think that's what Lauren's trying to do."

Maeve reaches over with her other and grabs a photo from the back of the stack. Max beams at Lauren and Lauren smiles back. It does make Kaylie curious, but Max isn't exactly doing body shots off of Lauren. That's more Kelly Parker's thing anyways.

"Now do you believe me?"

"So they're friendly. They work together."

"Kaylie, I'm sick of you making excuses for her, something I hear you complain about all the time. If you don't call the bitch out on her shit then I will and it won't be pretty. It's up to you. Step up because you know I will crush her if she's trying to steal my Max."

"Okay. I'll talk to her," Kaylie says. Maeve gives her a suspicious look. "I will this time. As long as you at least try to pretend you aren't at a psychologically disturbed level of paranoid."

"If you were smart, you'd be too. I know girls like Kelly Parker, who have boys like Nicky on a string. She _so_ knows she has power over him and every time she tugs and, yes, she will tug, the closer he gets to her and the farther he strays from you. She iced him out long enough to get him to chase her, which he did, and now that they're 'friends again' he'll do anything she wants. I bet she's been planning this since you and Nicky got together. I'd consider her a genius if she wasn't screwing over my bestie."

"I'll talk to Lauren. I mean it. Just stop talking about Nicky and Kelly."

"Anything you want. I knew I could count on you."

Kaylie tries to convince herself that intervening will prevent the inevitable war that will result from Maeve confronting Lauren herself. Maeve can be a bitch when she's trying to make her point, but the truth of the matter is that she does have a point.

Maeve drops her off and volunteers to help her everything in, but Kaylie declines. Maeve leaves soon after and Kaylie drops off the bags in the kitchen before she heads to the stairs to get her things together for their sleepover. Right before she walks into her room, Kaylie hears a loud, familiar laugh coming from down the hall. It sounds like Faith Giancana.

"Wow," AJ says. "I hear stories from girls we work with, but yours…"

"Thank you?" Faith says. "I mean, _thank you_. I'm sure you've helped a lot of girls who've gone through worse than I did. Like I said, I had my friends and my dad. I didn't tell you so you'd feel sorry for me. I just want you to know why I'm so grateful that there are people dedicated to helping girls like me. I'd _love_ to lend a hand and do what I can to show my support."

"Well, Faith Giancana, welcome to the Amelia Grace Foundation."

AJ and Faith? How did Faith even find out about AGF? Kaylie carefully makes her way down the hall for a glimpse, some visual validation that this is actually happening. From the sounds of it, AJ just got recruited for the cult of Faith Giancana. Kaylie turns the corner just as AJ and Faith turn the corner and they nearly run into each other.

"Hey, Kay," AJ greets his sister. "Why do you look so flustered?"

"I do? Oh. I was just… Faith, hi."

"Hey, Kaylie Cruz." Faith puts on a big smile that has to be rehearsed to look so happy. "Wow, what a coincidence! Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something, huh?"

That maybe all the people in Kaylie's life are destined to fall for Faith Giancana?

AJ nods between them. "You two know each other?"

"She's only dating my best friend." Faith's voice rises with enthusiasm and Kaylie can't tell if she's being genuine or mocking her. "She's also best friends with my best friend."

Faith makes it all sound so simple when their situation is far from it.

"I guess an introduction isn't necessary," AJ says. "Kaylie, Faith just jumped on the AGF ship. She's helping plan and coordinate the debutante ball, which, thank God. Between me and the country club ladies, we could use some young blood."

"That I am, and excited to be apart of it," Faith reports. "I wander around CU Denver sometimes and on one of the bulletin boards I saw an AGF fliers. I called the number and here I am, ready to do whatever I can to help."

AJ's phone starts to ring and he excuses himself, says it might be a long call and one he can't ignore (most likely Shauna). Faith assures him that she can show herself out. They shake hands to make the alliance official before AJ disappears back into the office.

"So Kaylie, hi," Faith says. She anxiously sways from side to side and doesn't know what to do with her hands, twisting her fingers together. She starts walking back down the hall to the stairs and Kaylie goes with her. "How've you been?"

"Good."

The awkward silence settles all around them. There is obviously a lot to talk about, but nothing either of them is willing to bring up.

Faith suddenly gasps, peeking beyond Kaylie's door. "Let me guess. This one is your room, isn't it? I figured with all the pink. I recently got into interior decorating. One of many new things I'm trying out post-gymnastics. You have no idea how many hours I kill on Tumblr, just looking at pics of walls and nooks and things like that—Holy! You have furry pink pillows!"

Kaylie watches Faith spin around her bedroom and inspect it like Julie Andrews in _Sound of Music_ meets an old episode of MTV's _Room Raiders_. The auburn-haired girl picks up one of the furry pink pillows and hugs it to her chest. "Your room is cute," Faith says, sitting on the edge of Kaylie's bed. "Like, Barbie meets Bella Swan."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Oh yeah, totally," Faith says, though Kaylie feels like she's just being nice. "It's not what I'd do with my room, personally speaking, but Imma do me and you do you, y'know?"

"Yeah, I actually walked into your room once. Your room at Nicky's house." Kaylie still finds it weird that Faith has an entire room, but then again, they are little rich kids on top of having no siblings and Faith does practically live with him. "With the Polaroids. It's cute."

"Thanks! Did you see my fish? But, anyways, wow, I let this go off on a tangent. Um, this little detour was kinda less about checking out your awesome room that really is awesome, I mean it, and more about a little birdie telling me that my friendship with Nicky makes you kinda uncomfortable and I don't want things to be like that."

Kaylie's eyes widen. She could strangle this so-called birdie.

"I, uh…um, what?"

Faith smiles and it's like a light in a dark room. "It's cool. If there were two hot, totally not normal girls hanging around my boyfriend I'd be uncomfortable too. It'd be weird if you were comfortable with it. I just want you to know that, yeah, I love your boyfriend, but I assure you I don't wanna bang him. Is 'bang' still relevant slang? I've been out of the country."

"Sure?" Kaylie moves to sit down beside Faith, needing to sit, assuming this is going to be a long speech. From what she knows of Faith, it will be.

"Anyways, yeah, I love him and I don't know when 'love' and 'urge to bang' became interchangeable, but I think that's just silly. Who says the person you want to bang is the only one you get to love? Well, they're wrong and I get that the world is obsessed with sex and all, but acting like you're going to die if you don't get some is just plain ridiculous. Not that I'm saying _you_ are one of those people, just people in general. Am I making any sense here?"

"Sort of…?"

"I mean, yeah, depending on who you do it with it has the power to make or break you, but it isn't _the only thing_ that's important here," Faith continues. "The people you'd die for." Faith laughs a little. "Or get tattoos that friggin' hurt for. That's important. Who would you fly cross-country for just to make sure that person's okay? I'd do it all for Nicky. I love him, but it doesn't mean I want to see what's under the horrible polyester uniform pants he irons."

Kaylie smiles. She feels the cult calling to her.

"And what about Kelly? Does she love him or want to bang him or…both?" Kaylie asks, pushing through the fear. She reads the change in Faith's features, the way she clutches the furry pink pillow a little tighter and her blue eyes widen significantly. None are good signs.

"I, um, well…" Faith struggles, but Kaylie holds her gaze, begging not to be lied to. "I know the answer I want to think and what you want to hear, but, truthfully, only Kelly can answer that. She's my best friend, but sometimes I don't even know. It might sound like a copout, but that's what I think. Double honest, I don't even know if Kelly knows. What I do know is you're the first girl I've ever seen Nicky risk his comfort zone for and I think that means something."

As much as she wants to hate her, Kaylie can't. Faith Giancana has honesty and fear and hope seeping out of her pores and Kaylie can't hate that.

"Thanks. I appreciate it," Kaylie says. "One more thing. Who exactly was this birdie?"

"And that I cannot answer for my own safety. Faith-friend confidentiality." Faith winks. "Anyways, I know I talk a lot and sometimes I lose myself, but main point: you don't have to worry. You're Nicky's girlfriend. We're friends. We all know where we stand now. Cool, right?"

Kaylie nods. "Cool."

"Good!" Faith puts the furry pillow back where she found it. "And now we can all be happy. I was trying to explain to Payson that I think it's a good thing it took so long. That means we didn't run back to each other just because we were lonely, but because we were finally ready."

"That's kind of nice. I like that."

"Me too." Faith starting for the door, but then spins back around with a cheeky grin. "And now that we've got our friendship mess all sorted, you and Nicky can go back to being all carefree lovey coupley. Happy early anniversary, by the way! Here's to hoping for no more awkwardness during intimate moments."

Kaylie freezes. When the awkward silence creeps back in, Faith takes notice.

"Nicky told you about that?" Kaylie asks. "Which time did he tell you about?"

"Um, all of them?" Faith says slowly. "But not in much detail or anything!" Faith's voice goes squeaky, filled with hope that Kaylie will let it slide. Kaylie's face says otherwise. "Quick question, so what if he told me? I bet you told Payson and Lauren and Emily too."

"Yeah, but I'm a girl. I'm supposed to go home and tell my girl friends about that awkward moment. He's a guy with hot, totally not normal friends."

"Kaylie Cruz, do you really want to get me started on gender bias and stereotypes?" Faith asks. Kaylie isn't looking so friendly anymore. She almost fell for it, that Faith Giancana charm, but no. Kaylie refuses. "Well, I should probably go…"

"I think you should," Kaylie agrees. "Unless you want to share about the girl he supposed hooked up with on a trampoline."

Kaylie wants to let go of that one, but she can't. One thing Kaylie likes about Faith is how she completely lacks control. With the way her eyes widen and her lips curve into an o-shape, Faith had no prior knowledge of that particular intimate moment.

"On a trampoline? That is _such_ a former gymnast's fetish cliché. I've never heard that one from Nix. What a little slut." Faith laughs nervously. "Now that we've both heard more than we ever wanted to know, I'll just show myself out like I should have five minutes ago. It was nice seeing you, Kaylie."

Once she walks out, Kaylie flops back on her bed, doesn't even walk Faith to the door. She doesn't understand why everyone wants to orbit Faith Giancana like she's the sun. Kaylie finds the New Yorker exhausting to be around. It has to get annoying. She doesn't get it. It's a point she brings up with her friends at the sleepover, but it seems Emily and Lauren are just as swayed by Faith Giancana as Nicky and Payson despite not knowing her as well.

When Nicky calls her to say goodnight, he makes it known that Faith told him about what happened. Not that Kaylie should be surprised. Then Nicky goes on to make excuses for her, saying she just has a Faith way of doing things. That isn't surprising either. Instead of starting an argument, Kaylie wishes him luck on his exam tomorrow and says goodnight. She stays in the kitchen for another minute, taking the time to collect herself.

"Hey, Kay." Lauren walks in. "What's the boyfriend up to?"

"Studying. Not that he needs it. Sometimes I think he actually enjoys it." Kaylie laughs, seeing the face Lauren makes as she yanks on the door of the refrigerator. "Hey, Lauren, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about…"

"Now that you mention it, walking in here was less about this," Lauren lifts the water in her hand, "and there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about too." Kaylie's gut tightens and she stays silent, letting Lauren go on. "Last weekend, I went to lunch with your brother."

Kaylie's brows curve. "What?"

"I figured he wouldn't say anything to you," Lauren says. "It wasn't like a date or anything. If it were he probably wouldn't have brought his daughter. It was more about AJ wanting me on board for the stupid debutant ball thing."

Kaylie inwardly cringes. Of all the things, AJ had to pick _that_ as his philanthropy?

"And you're telling me because…?"

"I thought Kaylie Cruz demands honesty. The last thing I'd want is some nosy bitch taking pictures of AJ and me, God forbid, _having lunch together_ and sending them to you. We played that game remember? And I wasn't honest with you then, but I want to be now."

"So, how'd it go?"

"AJ messes with my head. That isn't ever going to change. It's also why I've been less focused on him and more preoccupied with Razor." Kaylie lifts her dark brows and it feels so long since they've even talked about Lauren's guy problems. Nicky is always the main attraction. "He's a big comic book-reading dork with an unlimited closet of band and superhero tees…but I like him. He doesn't play games with me, which is new, and he's real…but he isn't here."

"And AJ is," Kaylie adds. "AJ, Razor and you. Hmm."

"Screwy, isn't it? I don't know why I even have it in my head that I'm supposed to pick when I can't have either of them. Not really. AJ has a family and responsibilities and a life that I don't fit into. And, again, Razor isn't here. And I'm not made to do the long distance thing."

"You sound so paranoid." Kaylie finds it just a little cute. "Is that what being single is? I can't even remember."

"At least Nicky Russo is yours," Lauren says. "Me, on the other hand, how do you lose something that isn't yours in the first place?"

"Screwy works. Nice word choice."

"I doubt the grammar snobs in the other room would agree." Lauren rolls her eyes. "Anyways, yes. I had lunch with your brother and your niece who's _adorable,_ but nothing happened that A could blackmail me with. That's about it. You had something you wanted to talk about?"

"Forget it," Kaylie says. "I'm sure you'll work things out with Razor and AJ. If either one of them is serious about wanting to be with you then he'll make room in his life for you, just like you'd do for him. And if it's AJ, I can't promise I'll be any good at hiding how gross I think that is, but I'd be happy for you. I'm actually really happy we're talking it out."

"Lauren!" Emily shouts from the next room. "I caught Henley watching Titanic on her laptop! And it isn't even the movie! It's a documentary on the actual Titanic!"

"Nu-uh, E.T!" Lauren shouts. "You're only allowed to watch twenty-something-year-olds pretending to be teenagers and bitching over dating each other! House rules, Henley!"

Although Kaylie thought to bring up Max, she decided against it for tonight. Why spoil the moment, especially a moment where Lauren is being so open? It's a rare moment, Kaylie knows, and she's going to hold onto it even if it only lasts the night.

…

Payson knows how lucky she is to have the support system she does. The girls sacrifice their sleep in the middle of the week for a traditional sendoff sleepover and they do it again, showing up at the airport to see her off. Payson loves her friends. The one thing she could do without is all the tension. Kaylie, Lauren and Emily stand near Payson while a little ways off is Nicky and Faith with Kelly and even further away Austin and Conrad say their goodbye. God forbid they can all stand together as one big group.

"You guys didn't have to wake up early just to see me off," Payson says.

Emily slides her long arm around the gymnast. "Of course we did, Pay! It's tradition."

"No biggie." Lauren has her dinosaur camera out and snaps a surprise photo of Payson. "Anything for you, Super Girl. Just don't forget the little people when you're wearing gold."

The girls turn to Kaylie for her contribution as is tradition, but the dark-haired girl is distracted for obvious reasons. Her eyes are a little ways down the parking structure. Nicky's back is to them with Faith and Kelly standing in front of him, effectively holding his attention.

Payson touches Kaylie's shoulder, hoping to pull her out of her jumbled thoughts. "Did you know he was going to be here?"

"Nope." Kaylie shakes it away and smoothes her fingers through her loose hair, pushing strands behind her ear. "_But_ this isn't about him. It's all you, Pay. You got this."

Kaylie holds her arms out and hugs Payson. Emily wraps her arms around the two of them and only pulls away long enough to tug on Lauren's arm to get her to join the group hug. They pull away just as Faith decides to defy the social segregation. She wiggles her way right between Payson and Emily, giving the group one of her winning smiles.

"Pace, you are gonna kill it!" Faith wraps her arms around the blonde with a little hop and Lauren takes the opportunity to capture the moment on film. "Some sage advice from yours truly. Push it to the limit. In it to win it, lovey."

Payson rolls her eyes. "Faith made us watch _High School Musical_ once."

"What? It's not my fault it was streaming on Netflix! Be happy I didn't choose the Bieber doc instead." Faith grins even wider and sets her eyes on the tall girl to her other side. "Hey, Emily Kmetko. Your name continues to be one of the coolest I've ever heard. All of yours, actually."

"Thanks." Emily smiles back. "So what's currently on Faith Giancana's reading list?"

"Hmm. Currently, I'm reading Delusions of Gender." Emily makes a face because that doesn't sound like an epic, emotional adventure story. "Yeah, super informative, but not so fun. Um, what I've been meaning to start, but haven't yet…" Faith reaches into her purse and yanks out a paperback novel. _Their Eyes Were Watching God_. "It's a classic from Nicky's reading list. It's supposedly about male-female relations, love and loss, identity, empowerment."

Looking over her shoulder, Faith draws everyone's attention to Nicky and Kelly, who are standing a lot closer than they were when Faith was with them. "Hey, Nix!" Faith shouts, holding up the book. "Did you enjoy this?"

"Hated it!" Nicky shouts back. "I couldn't get over the vernacular."

"That means it's a lovely, lovely book," Faith says. "Don't forget, Nicky hates Gatsby, which is an atrocity. If we weren't family that'd be a deal breaker." Faith holds the book out to Emily. "Here. Read it and tell me if it's any good."

"Will do." Emily takes the book and smoothes her fingers over the cover.

"Cute boots. Almost as cute as your other ones," Lauren says, eyeing Faith's feet per usual. They're leather wrapped heels that cut off at the ankle, almost militaristic yet still feminine and completely adorable. "Italian leather too?"

"Possible? Don't know. I got them in New York, actually," Faith says. "Fluevog off of Mulberry. It's practically shoe heaven. If you're ever in the city, I def recommend it." Going down the line, Faith's gaze finally lands on the last of the group. "Kaylie, hi…again."

"Hi," Kaylie says. Her eyes keep going back to Nicky and Kelly.

When Faith catches on, she says, "Oh, Nicky's just giving her his version of a pep talk so like a pep talk, but lame." Just as Faith tries to sooth Kaylie's worries, Nicky leans forward and hugs Kelly. She hesitates, but when Nicky doesn't let go, she brings her hands high up on his back and returns the embrace. "So, Kaylie, I was telling Nicky and Kelly that, um, when our g's get back we should all hang out. Like, celebratory bowling or something."

"Ice skating," Payson suggests with excitement.

"Ice skating!" Faith shouts. "Yes! Both Nicky and Kel are really, _really_ bad at it! Kelly's always afraid she's going to break something and Nicky always falls on his ass or clings to the side. It's like trying to give kittens a bath. It'll be great!"

"And why would we want to do that?" Lauren asks. Her sass and suspicion is so blunt that Emily elbows her in response. "What? We're all thinking it. After everything that happened, why do you want to awkwardly make nice?"

"Because she's my best friend's girlfriend?" Faith states the obvious. "And you're cool and we're cool so I just did some math and thought…?"

Payson can see how unsure Faith is, which is weird because Faith Giancana is rarely less than confident in herself. It seems the Four have an interesting effect on her. "Count me in," Payson tells Faith. "It sounds fun."

"Wait, so you're saying Kelly wants to hang out with _me_?" Kaylie asks.

"She's open to it," Faith says. Payson has known Faith Giancana and Kelly Parker long enough to know that isn't a complete lie, but it isn't quite the truth either. "Anyways, I need to go tell Mr. Kobalt that if he kisses any whorish Kobalt booty girls, there's going to be trouble." Faith gives her blonde friend a wink and hugs her again. "Nice seeing you all."

The Four echo the sentiment, chirping like birds at dawn, before Faith runs over to Austin and Conrad, hooking an arm around each of their necks and dragging them down to her height.

"Well, that wasn't awkward, no, not at all," Lauren says. "Can you imagine what hanging out is going to be like?"

"I think Faith is sweet," Emily says, thrusting the book into her tote bag.

"Apparently, Lo thinks so too." Kaylie sounds almost accusing and Payson doesn't like it, but doesn't comment on it either. "Italian leather? What _was_ that?"

"We're both Italian, which means we're practically family, and you cannot deny the girl has good taste in clothes," Lauren lists. "Hmm, backpacking through Italy or shopping in NYC with Faith Giancana. Now doesn't that trump bowling and ice skating?"

"So I'm officially the only one who hasn't jointed the cult of Faith Giancana?" Kaylie shakes her head at her friends. "Nice, guys."

"We call it Faithism, actually." Austin Tucker, wearing his typical leather jacket and signature Kobalt sunglasses, walks over. He towers over them, even Emily, and smiles nervously. Unlike Kaylie, Payson almost never forces Austin to hang out with them.

"Faithism." Payson smiles at him, giving him reason to ease up just a little. "It even has it's own mandate and everything."

Austin smiles back at Payson, but when his eyes move around the group and to the other blonde, his expression darkens. He nods to Lauren. _Is Kaylie still clueless about what I said in front of you? _Lauren discretely nods back. _Yes, Mr. Famous, my lips are sealed. _

Not wanting to even recognize how easy she reads that silent conversation, Payson glances over and sees Faith and Conrad talking. There's something about those two when they're together. They almost immediately revert back to being five years old.

"What are Faith and your life partner planning now?" Payson asks.

"Knowing them, probably brainstorming ways to booby trap the lake house for when we get back," Austin replies. "That'd be my guess."

"Or planning an eating contests," Payson says. That's definitely a possibility with those two.

"Okay, kids, let's wrap it up!" Kim shouts after ending her phone call. "Payson, Kelly, Austin, say goodbye and let's go! Girls, have a good day at school. Faith, Conrad, be good."

"Always, Aunt Kim." Faith smiles as she goes over to hug the woman. They all share one final goodbye before Kim leads the gymnasts off to the ticketing office to check in, each dragging their luggage behind them. Conrad lunges out to hug Austin one last time and it makes Payson laugh when Kelly mutters, "such gays," under her breath.

Payson glances back at her friends and sees Nicky and Kaylie off to the side, talking quietly. She's curious, but gets ushered away by her mom before she can even mouth for one of the girls to text her and tell her what happens.

"Aren't we supposed to wait for Flex?" Payson asks. It still makes her shiver with disgust, remembering that conversation she had with him on Kelly's phone.

"We are not," Kim replies. "I got a call from his manager and she personally contacted me to inform me that Flex Jordan does not travel with 'normal folk' and will be finding his own mode of transportation to Florida via private jet. Payson, if your ego ever reaches the size of his…"

"Ass whooping," Kelly says. Kim gives her a warning of a look and Kelly beams in return.

"It's nice to see you so cheery, Kelly." Payson cannot pass up the opportunity to slip in a little teasing of her own. "Mom, did you notice Nicky Russo _hugged_ Kelly and there weren't any threats of a restraining order and the world _didn't_ end?"

Kim smiles just a little. "It just so happens that I did notice."

"And he totally sidelined his girlfriend in the process," Austin reminds them. Mood killer.

"I noticed that too," Kim says quietly. It isn't disappointment in her voice, just grim observation. She tells the three to stay together while she goes to find Sasha and make ticketing arrangements.

"That wasn't my fault." Kelly glares at Austin. "I didn't ask for it and it isn't like Kaylie was the one flying across the country. Whatever. I'm going bowling with her—_bowling with friggin' Kaylie Cruz_—which, as far as I'm concerned, is charity enough."

"We actually decided to ice skate," Payson interjects.

Kelly points a threatening finger at her friend. "Hell no. You ice skate? Keeler, as if we don't put our bodies through enough with gymnastics alone, you find enjoyment in strapping blades to your feet and trying not to fall on your ass _on ice_? That's masochistic is what that is."

Payson recognizes that Kelly has a point, but that doesn't make her any less amused. Plus, Payson is good at ice-skating. Always has been, even as a kid. With how nervous Kelly is at the mere idea, Faith couldn't have been exaggerating earlier.

"So what would you say are the odds of you and Jerk-Off getting together again?" Austin asks out of the blue. He really won't leave well enough alone. Payson gives him a weary look and Austin easily ignores it. It's that night all over again.

"No chance whatsoever. And don't call him that!" Kelly snaps. Austin isn't convinced, but it isn't like Kelly cares much for Austin's opinion. "I'm not a slut. I have this thing called self-control. It's what separates us from the animals, but it isn't like you'd know what that's like."

"But if he broke it off with his girl then you'd be sleeping with him by now, wouldn't you?" Austin accuses. Payson's eyes go wide and Kelly rolls hers, but neither reaction stops Austin. "So the whole you and Conrad thing, was that just so you'd have stories to swap with your boy? Something to compare and contrast to Kaylie Cruz."

"Out of line, Austin," Payson warns. "Not cool."

Being Kelly, she doesn't let anyone else fight her battles for her. "What is your deal, Tucker? You were practically begging me to do your boyfriend less than a week ago."

"That was before I knew you'd break his heart by running back to Jerk-Off!"

"I said stop calling him that!" Kelly shouts. Austin glares at her, disgusted. Conrad is obviously at the center of this argument, but, of course, Nicky Russo is Kelly's first priority. He's her first everything. "You don't even know what you're talking about. All Conrad and I ever had was awkward moments that never led anywhere real."

Austin scoffs. "Nothing is ever your fault is it?"

"Naturally," Kelly replies.

"Both of you need to cut it out." Payson is sick of them fighting and out in the public, where a few travelers start to take notice. She steps up between them, using the voice she learned from her mother when Payson and Becca bicker. Somehow Payson is always finds herself in the middle of people she cares about. "Austin, leave it alone."

His dark gaze moves from the brunette to the blonde. "And now you're standing up for her? Why is it when something goes wrong you always fight with me?"

"I'm not fighting with you!"

"It kind of feels like it."

"Austin—"

"Okay, both of you need to shut up. Your mom is coming back," Kelly hisses. Payson crosses her arms and turns away from Austin while he fixes his Kobalt sunglasses over his eyes.

It's quiet between them as Kim distributes tickets and Sasha greets the gymnasts with his standard nod. Sasha sacrificed a shave to make it to the airport on time, evident by the visible scruff on his cheeks. Kim herds them through the security checkpoint as a group and once they set up camp in front of their gate, the two girls sit together while Kim picks up a magazine and Sasha and Austin are both on their phones, pacing a little ways off.

"Free Wi-Fi. Score." Kelly crosses her legs beneath her and Payson watches as Kelly pulls up Words with Friends. Though she leans into Kelly, Payson's eyes dart between Sasha and Austin. "Keeler, check it out. I am so killing this loser."

HBIC KP: I'm totally kicking your ass.

Allechaoc: Your turn

HBIC KP: You suck.

HBIC KP: Wow, you suck.

HBIC KP: Did you really just play 'boy'? Quack. Suck on that triple word score.

Allechaoc: Fuck you.

Payson laughs. "And this is just some random stranger?"

"Most of them are. It's more fun that way." Kelly presses her finger to the screen and it brings her back to the master list of games. "I do know some. Namely Nick. 'Fish Nix.' What a dork. And Faith. 'Faith Palm." Then there's Austin's sister."

"How'd you start playing her?"

"I creamed Conrad. I needed a challenge and he set me up with her. She isn't horrible with words, which is surprising because Austin has the IQ of a potato." There's still some leftover aggression in her voice. "It's like playing Faith when she actually tries."

"Does Austin know?"

"If he does, I didn't tell him and I probably won't because he's an ass." Kelly stares off into space. "I didn't break Conrad's heart. How could I when it still belongs to his ex? We talked…sort of and laughed off whatever we tried to have. It all felt too forced. Conrad thinks Nick and I…never mind. Kaylie doesn't have to worry. I'm not trying to steal her boyfriend."

"I believe you. Better yet, I trust you." Payson doesn't go into how she's a little apprehensive, thinking that Nicky and Kelly gravitating back to each other is something they can't help.

After Kelly unlocks the screen and shuffles the virtual tiles, Payson tells her what word to play. Being Kelly, she just has to ignore the advice and make an entirely different word. Payson smiles to herself. Kelly Fucking Parker is definitely on her way to making a comeback.

"Is everything okay, Sasha?" Payson questions her coach the second he starts towards them.

"Great now that that insufferable phone call is done with. It was Marty," Sasha announces. He goes to sit in the row of seats across from the two gymnasts, facing them. Kelly pays him little attention, continuing to update her games while Payson shifts uncomfortable at the mention of her coach who bailed on her. "He told me to keep an especially close eye on you, Kelly."

Kelly turns up her eyes. "I'm not surprised."

"He emphasized how all the mini bottles of alcohol should be emptied from your hotel refrigerator upon arrival." Sasha gives Kelly a look that asks for an explanation.

Kelly shrugs, would rather not explain that one for obvious reasons. "Are you sure that little note was meant for me and not one of Marty's notes to self?"

Sasha rakes his fingers down the prickly hairs on his cheek. "Lord knows Walsh could use it."

"Marty has a drinking problem?" Payson asks, even if she didn't mean to aloud.

"Everyone self-medicates at one point in their life," Kelly says. "Marty prefers Jack no chaser."

Sasha yawns and combs his fingers through his hair. "Payson, I also got a call from MJ. She's wondering why you aren't answering your phone or returning her calls."

"My phone's turned off. We're flying?" Payson states the obvious. "I didn't think I'd need it."

"Well, you should call her. I don't usually make it a point to play middle man, especially when it concerns PR rubbish." Sasha crinkles his face. Anyone who's tracked his career outside of what goes down on the mat would know that Sasha Belov and the media never got along too well. "Something about how you should be using Jacksonville to start to strengthen your fanbase. The more fans we can get for the sport, the better."

"Speaking of fans. Mine need something to tweet about." Kelly leans into Payson and holds her phone out in front of them to take a picture. Sasha watches the two girls with a gentle smile.

Kelly thumbs out the tweet: _Headed to Florida with #PaysonKeeler! Eyes peeled for Dexter. _

Their 9 a.m. flight out of Denver should arrive in Dallas, TX by noon, where they have a slight layover and take a connecting flight to Jacksonville, FL. If all goes accordingly, they'll make it to Florida by 5 p.m. and that should give them some time to settle in before the American Cup social events begin.

When they're settled in their seats and Payson is right about to pop her earphones in and listen to the playlist Emily made for her, she hears Kelly complain, "Keeler, I can't sleep."

"Sucks for you because I can," Payson says, one ear bud in and her eyes ready to close.

Kelly noisily shifts from side to side, failing to find a comfortable position. She sighs loudly, gives up, and unlocks her iTouch, clicking the Pass and Play Words with Friends option. Kelly expertly moves her finger across the screen and plays her word before nudging Payson's shoulder. Payson knows Kelly isn't about to leave her alone and decides to play along. She looks at the yellow tiles, moves a few and hits play.

Kelly snorts. "_On_? Three points? Payson, that's pathetic. Almost as pathetic as Faith when she exchanges tiles _every turn_ until she can make whatever dirty word she can."

"Faith would." Payson laughs. She shifts in her seat to face Kelly, observing the look of sheer determination on her face, arranging letters, trying to find the winning combination. Quietly, Payson asks, "How is she really?"

"What do you mean?"

"Faith. Sometimes it feels like there's something there that she doesn't want to deal with and so she throws herself into other things."

"You mean how she obsesses over Nicky and me, the baking and there's this new girl power movement she seems really excited about. And we can't forget how she left the country for three months, giving us nothing more to go off of than vague postcards. Does she ever talk about Europe with you?"

"Just the fun stuff."

"Yeah, me too." Kelly plays a word, evident by the sound of the signature jingle. "That's the great thing about Faith though. She'll let us know when she's ready. Soon enough she won't be able to shut up about it."

They play a few more rounds before Payson really needs to get at least some sleep and resigns. Kelly calls her a loser, but doesn't bug her any more. Payson closes her eyes and pushes away a mixture of anxiety and excitement that accompany the prospects of getting to compete in front of an audience so large it'd easily put her home gym over capacity.

Once they arrive in Jacksonville, they're shuffled from the airport to their hotel and have a little time to relax before having to deal with the press. Austin goes into Mr. Kobalt mode, as if Payson isn't already annoyed with him for what he pulled on Kelly at the airport. Seeing him pose shirtless with the infamous Kobalt Girls makes her sick with irritation. It doesn't take long for Kelly to volunteer to kick his ass in Payson's honor. After all, that's what friends are for.

Despite the show Austin puts on and how uneasy it makes her, Payson has to play up her Payson Keeler: America's Sweetheart image. She paints on her own smile and hates the entire thing. It could be worse. Kelly gets bombarded with questions about the rumors over her behavior, but Kelly handles it like a pro and has them all eating out of the palm of her hand. One reporter asks her about the cute boy from the photo she tweeted and with a mischievous smile, Kelly answers, "just a close, childhood friend."

By the time it's all over, Payson's starving. Her mom asks her where Kelly is and Payson goes to search for her roommate. When she turns a corner, Payson finds Kelly, but she isn't alone. Standing in front of her is that manager woman, Sheila Buboyan, and she looks almost as upset as Kelly does. They take turns lashing out at each other and it gets to the point where Payson thinks she should intervene before one or both of them turn to violence.

Before Payson can take another step, her phone rings. She immediately expects MJ, but sees Lauren's name on the screen.

"Hey, Lo, I'm right about to go to dinner—"

"Payson, we have a problem."

"What is it?"

"…"

Payson finds the silence unnerving. She hates it. "Lauren, what's wrong?"

"Kaylie knows. And I wish I could say it just slipped out, but that would be a lie…"

At this point, Payson doesn't know what to think. Right after she praised Lauren for how much she's changed and how much effort she's put into changing it all just goes to hell.

"Did you do it because you were angry?"

"Pay…"

"Answer the question, Lo! Did you tell Kaylie because you thought she had a right to know or because you got angry over something stupid, like you always do and tried to use Nicky and Kelly to hurt her?"

Lauren doesn't say anything. Payson doesn't wait for confirmation and ends the call.

…

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><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: Hey! So, we got some mixed review for the last chapter. Some of you loved it, some of you hated it, but gave us good feedback and others of you, well, just plain hated it and the lack of KayAus. Um, yeah, awkward. Anyways, keep it coming! Whatever you have to say about the story (or your random thoughts, I guess), go for it.

**Rose**: Sorry to hear you aren't enjoying the story. We get what you're saying, but it being a dramatic angst overload is kinda the point. WeFaB is about teenagers and less concerned with finding resolutions in the conventional sense and more with exploring how relationships place limitations on individual behavior. Second, the technical gymnastics stuff isn't our aesthetic. If you're interested in that, some authors—**JCI**_, _**Virgo Writer** & **flowerchild3286**—do a fantastic job! I (B) have read their fics, picked their brains and would recommend them. Also, it's just fanfiction. It's just fun. Not like we're publishing this. If you do stop reading, that sucks, but it's cool. Check out the authors suggested and smile! Xoxo

**Review.**

#WeFaB #LLD2 #LLDforever


	14. You'll Be to Blame for Playing This Game

**Warning**: You might be wondering why we're updating off our schedule (updating at all). We're big believers in hearing the good news before the bad so savor the chapter. When you read the a/n at the bottom your heart might end up as broken as ours…

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><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

The trouble with always being the center of attention is the way prying eyes refuse to look away, _especially _when adoration turns sour. If anything, the eyes only stare longer and harder. Maeve Benson is no exception. When Max breaks up with her one morning out by her car, every whisper, every text and every laugh is without a doubt about her.

Kaylie watches as Maeve unravels. Her dark, meticulously straightened hair whips from side to side as she barrels down the school hallway, nearly knocking over innocent bystanders. She shoves her way into the nearest bathroom and Kaylie follows. She watches as Maeve twists a silver ring off her finger on her left hand and throws it at the mirror with enough force to make a startling sound, but not enough to break the glass. Max gave her that ring, inscribed with "_till hell freezes over_." Kaylie doesn't think she's ever seen Maeve without it.

"He. Broke. Up. With. _Me_!" Maeve's chest heaves as she pauses between each word, seething.

"Did he say why?"

Maeve laughs, but it's more of a cackle, coming off as insane with the acoustics of the bathroom. The door loudly swings open and Maeve snaps, appearing just as insane as she sounds, a mix of tears and mascara running down her cheeks.

"YOU BEING HERE IS A PROBLEM! OUT!" Maeve screams.

The poor, frighten girl quickly walks out before Kaylie can apologize on her friend's behalf.

"He pulled a _it's not you, it's me_, _but I hope we can be friends_ combo!" Maeve contorts her fingers as she paces in front of the bathroom mirror. "I knew this would happen. Once the cracks start forming, there's no fixing it. Cracks your bestie, Lauren Tanner, started!"

Kaylie doesn't believe that or at least she doesn't want to. Regardless, she doesn't have the heart to defend Lauren when Maeve is falling apart. She kicks the trashcan and sends it slamming into the opposite wall. Kaylie extends her hand, but Maeve refuses to be touched. She's too lost in it to feel anything beyond her anger.

"I knew this was going to happen and I should have stopped it, but I didn't even try." Maeve turns her murderous glare on Kaylie. "Because _you_ said _you_'d take care of it and I believed _you_. I trusted _you_! But you didn't, did you? You just let her pull the crap she does."

"Maeve, you can't be blaming me. Max—"

"I'm not blaming you, Kaylie." Maeve takes a breath. Her hands shake, making the bracelets around her thin wrists rattle. She leans back against the wall and slowly slides down, crouched in the corner. "Things are just…all wrong."

Before Kaylie can approach her, the door swings open and in comes the cavalry, Maeve's senior friends. They swarm her as she bursts into tears. Feeling useless and shaken, Kaylie slips out of the bathroom and no one says a word. She hunts the halls for Lauren. It's too late to make a difference, but Kaylie needs reassurance for her own peace of mind.

"It was a-_mah _-zing! Seriously, Em, it was like reality TV. Like she didn't get a rose at the final rose ceremony. She went ba-_fricking-_llistic! You'd think Perfect Maeve Benson would be able to take a breakup with some level of dignity. I wish I got pictures."

Kaylie should be desensitized to Lauren's badmouthing by now, but instead, she feels her blood heat up. Her Cruz temper flares. Gathering her own anger and frustration, Kaylie marches over and yanks Lauren away by her arm.

"Kay, what the hell?"

"We need to talk. Now. Alone!"

Emily is stunned, doesn't know how to respond, so Kaylie takes charge and drags Lauren away despite the way the blonde fights her. After finding a fairly secluded corner of the school, Kaylie goes on the offensive. "Lauren, tell me you were not just talking about Max and Maeve's breakup like it was some stupid, trashy reality TV show!"

Lightly tracing over the red tint of her skin, aching for a summer tan, Lauren treads carefully. "As if you don't see the parallels, emphasis on _stupid_ and _trashy_."

"Don't talk to me about parallels! You don't even write your own English essays! Their relationship _just_ ended and you sounded excited about it. What is wrong with you?"

"You want me to be a little more sensitive? Not that Maeve ever gave me the courtesy."

"Was there anything going on between you and Max?" Kaylie asks, straight up.

Lauren is floored. Kaylie feels a twinge of guilt, but ignores it.

"Max Spencer?" Lauren searches for clarity. She has the nerve to feign confusion. "Kaylie, he's practically my boss. Given the fact that I'm not even getting paid, probation officer might work better. Why do you even feel the need to ask?"

"Just yes or no would be fine, Lo."

"Why? So you can run back and tell Maeve?"

"He dumped her after he started hanging out with you." Kaylie's own paranoia comes through. It's hard to deny that she can relate to Maeve's logic. "All I need is for you to tell me nothing went on between you two and that you had no role in their breakup. Then we can drop it."

"I don't even understand why I'm being accused in the first place," Lauren argues. She _always_ has to be difficult. "Based on what evidence? I got into a stupid fight with stupid Alison and Matsui forced me to work on the stupid yearbook and so I'm stuck taking orders from Max. Yeah, it definitely sounds like romance novel material."

"Don't pretend you're _so_ innocent. I've seen you two, Lauren—"

"Seen us what?"

"I'm pretty sure Emily doesn't talk to her boss the way you talk to Max."

Kaylie doesn't say the word _slut,_ but it's on the tip of her tongue and Lauren looks like she expects it. Kaylie doesn't assume Lauren is guilty, but a piece of her admits it's plausible.

"Can we just get this over with?" Kaylie asks. "Since you bailed on the squad, I have a lot to do and Maeve falling apart doesn't make any of this easier. Just tell me the truth. What? You and Max would hang out during yearbook, take pictures of and with each other. Flirt?"

"Bottom line, Kaylie: I don't want Max. Never did."

Kaylie can't deny her disappointment. Slap on the scarlet letter. "Great," she says. "I hope you know that when you avoid the question like that I just assume it's a confession."

Lauren plants her hand on her hip, switching gears. "Let me ask you something, Kay. Do you think it's normal that Maeve is hounding _you_ about sins I've supposedly committed? What friend asks a friend to do that? And you just do it! Why do you feel obligated to do her dirty work like one of Queen Maeve's _mindless_ little worker bees? What happened to you? You're calling _me_ out? _Me_! We've bee best friends since the freaking uterus!"

"You're still avoiding the question."

"Kaylie, I flirt with everyone! Flirting is flirting. Just words. Sometimes looks. Smiles. It helps pass the time. It doesn't mean I'm writing _Mrs. Max Spencer _on my notebooks or trying to imagine what our children will look like. I. Don't. Want. Max. And I'm not the reason they broke up. Trust me. _A lot_ more factors into that than me flirting with him."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kaylie sees the hesitation. Lauren knows something. Kaylie takes a determined step forward. "What other factors?"

"Factors that don't involve either of us, Kaylie."

More avoidance. What a complete copout.

"My point is: flirting is just flirting. It isn't anything."

"Just like how sex is just sex, right?" Kaylie asks.

Now things are getting personal, but Kaylie wouldn't take it back. No way.

"Yes," Lauren says. Kaylie turns up her eyes. She should have known Lauren would answer that way. Before she can express how unsurprised she is, Lauren takes a surprisingly determined step of her own. "Yes, Kaylie. When it comes down to it, sex is just sex. Hands are just hands and touching is just touching and your body react the way it reacts. It's how we're built. It's what we do."

"No. There's always a choice."

"Just like how it was Max's _choice_ to break up with Maeve so there's no point in you and me getting heated over it. So you can go run and tell Maeve that and we can end this."

"Why do you always do that?" Kaylie grinds her sandals into the pavement. "Maeve is completely broken up over this. I'm just trying to do the right thing and get her some sort of explanation. She was the only one who had my back when you screwed me over and got Emily and Payson to side with you."

"Is that really how you see things? It sounds like something Maeve spoon-fed you. Wow, and I told Payson she needs to check her loyalties? Ever since you ditched us for the popular table."

"Oh, quit pretending, Lauren." Kaylie irritably throws her fists down at her sides. "We all know you're jealous of Maeve. Just admit it already."

"Okay, so I'm doing my best to cheer up Emily because her whole life gets more screwed up by the day incase you forgot since you're oh so wrapped up in your Kaylie-centered world and you come out of nowhere attacking me because maybe I flirt with Max? This is ridiculous! Isn't it time for Nicky and you to get into one of your stupid fights? I like you a lot more when you're bitching about him rather than bitching at me."

"Just lay off Maeve. Stop talking crap about her in the halls. She's my friend. Deal with it."

The blonde puts on an evil smile and Kaylie finds it infuriating. "You know that once you tell someone not to do something they have to do it, right? Something about forbidden fruit…"

"God. Grow up, Lauren."

"Like Maeve is a little saint who never talks about me behind my back? _Please_. Just so we're clear, Kaylie, I don't want anything to do with Maeve Benson and I sure as hell didn't try to steal her boyfriend." Under her breath Lauren murmurs, "I learned not to waste my time on boys who cheat."

Kaylie flinches. "What did you just say?"

"Are we done here? And Em and Pay think I go out of my way to antagonize you? You and Payson were fighting and Pay doesn't fight with anyone! You're always looking for reasons to pick fights with your boyfriend. Now this."

"You're one to talk. You don't know how hard you make it to be your friend!" Kaylie shouts. "It's like babysitting a slutty little kid. I'm always getting backlash from my friends for the things you do solely because our moms were friends. Lauren, I mean it, just _grow up _already! The shit you constantly pull isn't funny anymore."

"Wow."

The severity of the blow doesn't register with Kaylie until she sees the tears prick at Lauren's eyes and the way her lips twitch. It's too harsh, too bold to take back. A part of her thinks to, but her vocal chords aren't responding. Lauren takes a step closer and Kaylie thinks to block her face, but her arms refuse to react. Maybe her body knows she deserves what's coming.

"So this is your new honesty policy in action?" Lauren asks. Deadly. Chilling.

Kaylie stares at the ground, but it doesn't diminish the rage that radiates off of Lauren as she moves even closer. Kaylie said it in the heat of the moment, but she can't seem to apologize or take it back either. Maybe it was honesty brought upon by fire. From the look of things, Lauren is about to return the ash-flavored favor.

"My turn. Kaylie, do you see what you're doing right now? You're so wrapped up in someone else's relationship that you don't even see what's going _wrong_ with yours."

In her slinky, smoky voice, Lauren gives Kaylie exactly what she's been chasing since the summer—the truth.

"Nicky Russo and Kelly Parker, your boyfriend and his bitch bestie, yeah, he fucked her. Actually, what I heard word-for-word, he _used her for sex_ and I think it's safe to assume your sweet, perfect boy fucked her _repeatedly_. He fucked her and he broke her and he threw her away when he moved on to you."

If she wasn't high on adrenaline, Lauren would probably have had the decency to feel bad or appear sympathetic, but she doesn't. Lauren's expression is more of _game, set, match, bitch_.

When Kaylie speaks, her voice is nearly inaudible. "Wh—who told you?"

"Austin Tucker."

"Does Payson know?" Kaylie asks. "Have you all known this whole time? I am such an idiot."

"Maybe now you'll consider paying more attention to your own boyfriend."

Kaylie's eyes start to tear up as she stares Lauren down with an expression too harsh and ugly for the naturally pretty face. "God, Lo, you can be such a bitch. I don't even know why I bother with you anymore."

"I don't know why I bothered with you in the first place!" Lauren shouts, now with tears on her cheeks. "Oh, right. _Solely because our moms were friends." _

Kaylie doesn't wait another second before she steps towards Lauren with so much force that the blonde lifts her arm, expecting a palm across the face. Instead, Kaylie shoulders pass her and marches away. Kaylie blazes down the hall, in a state of mind that easily transcends _pissed the fuck off_. She yanks her phone free from her pocket and selects the contact at the top of her recent calls list. Marcus turns a corner, almost bumps into her, and when he sees her face, he catches on fairly quickly.

"Kaylie, is everything okay?"

She keeps walking and doesn't show a single sign that she even saw him there.

"Wait a second, Kaylie. You know the cell phones during school hours rule! Kaylie!"

The girl in the pink sweater continues on her way, following her one-track mind hell-bent on figuring out how she could have been so stupid, ignoring her gut feeling for months. The call goes straight through to voicemail. It's the middle of the school day so she isn't surprised.

"…_At the tone please record your message. When you've finished recording, you may hang up or press the pound key for more options_."

_Beep_.

"Kelly Parker!" Kaylie shouts. Anger leaves little room for rational thought. "Did you…have you...slept with her? _Her_. According to what I've heard, _slept with_ isn't close to the right term." Kaylie takes a moment. A breath. "Please, baby, I need you to tell me Lauren is making things up. Just, call me as soon as you get this."

Her fingers shake. Her head throbs. All hurts. She doesn't want to believe it, but a big part of her has known it all along. Kaylie Cruz is the last one to the party as usual.

…

"Nicky and Kelly Parker?" Emily makes a face.

"I don't get it either," Lauren says, "but _come on_. Kaylie has had her suspicions for what now? Oh, only their entire relationship! At least it feels like it with how much she complains about them. And Payson has known since the summer. She didn't tell Kaylie either yet I'm the Whore of Babylon getting stoned by the vending machines."

"But you aren't friends with Kelly like Payson is."

"Something tells me technicalities aren't going to save any of us from hashtag-Kaylie-Rage."

Sitting in Lauren's car, parked on the side of the school, Emily plays with a loose string on her tattered sweater. She admires Lauren's attempted humor, but realizes how it isn't helping.

"And I'll be honest, I don't regret it," Lauren says. "Screw being the better person if it means having to take undeserved crap from the person I'm making an effort for. She brought up last summer and in her twisted head she thinks you and Pay took my side. Maybe everything with Carter and AJ was too much. Maybe we were stupid to think we could get past it."

Emily's lips curve down in a frown and she reaches over to place her hand on the back of Lauren's. "Did Kaylie really say the only reason you're friends is because of your moms?"

"Word-for-fucking-word! This whole thing is stupid. Where does she come off accusing me of ruining Max and Maeve?" Lauren slams her hands against the steering wheel while Emily counters with the raise of her brows. "Okay, flirting, yeah, guilty, but trying to steal him? That's just dumb. I'm just so over this day. Can we please just get out of here and go eat something comforting yet terrible for me."

"Tacos," they say simultaneously.

"They're the hipster sandwich," Emily says lightly. "After, can we stop by Brian's school?"

Lauren agrees and drives out her frustration. Emily can feel it. Lauren is in complete control and not once does Emily feel unsafe in the car with her. She puts on an old Spice Girls song because she knows it'll make Lauren feel better and they quietly sing along for the rest of the drive to their favorite Mexican food stop and then to the private school.

"Henley suggests—or rather, _demands_—Thai food for dinner," Lauren reads off her text.

"I still think it's weird you two are so tight. Lo, you _text_ each other throughout the day. _I_ don't even get texts from her and we're partially related."

Lauren smiles for the first time all afternoon. "Winning over the Sheppard family one-by-one."

When Emily spots her brother among the sea of bright, adolescent minds, Emily leaves her foil-wrapped tacos on the dashboard, grabs the brown paper bag and rushes after him.

"Bry!" Emily shouts. He spots her and so do his friends, but then Brian brings his hands down to the wheels at his sides and starts going in the opposite direction. "Brian!"

One of his friends says something, but Brian ignores it. When Emily finally catches up to him, she blocks his path. His friends are uncomfortable and bad at hiding it. They obviously have a better insight into what's going on in Brian's head. Emily waits, filling with dread.

"Hey," Emily says. "What's going on?"

"What's going on?" Brian sounds so angry, angrier than she's ever heard him. He gives his friends a glance and give them some space. "What's going on is I haven't seen you for almost an entire week, Emily."

"Brian, it's okay. I'm fine. I—"

"What's wrong is that mom is more depressed than ever, worse than when we were behind on payments and they shut off the electricity, even worse than when nana passed away. She's like a zombie, crying at night while Bruce is passed out. And you left! That's what's wrong!"

"Are you kidding me?" Emily tries really hard not to lose her composure in a public place. "Brian, you were there that night. Bruce was drunk. She was making excuses for him. Mom _hit_ me. What was I supposed to do? Go cry in my bed and let them think they won?"

"What is there to win, Emily? From where I stand or, well, not _stand_ but whatever, everyone lost that night."

He's right, she realizes, but he's also wrong.

Emily squats at his side. "I'm sorry you have to live with that, but I'm not crawling back. I can't. It isn't even a pride thing; it's a principle thing. I can take care of myself and that's what I'm going to do. I know it's all a mess, but, Bry, you need to understand."

"I understand." On the contrary, his voice holds no understanding, just spite. "You aren't sorry. You're selfish. The only person you're looking out for right now is yourself. After all the things you told me about family being most important and how you'd never desert us?"

"Hey! I love you." Emily grabs him by the shoulder, wishing he'd look at her. "You're my baby brother, but what you're asking me to do…I can't. I can't be there right now, Brian. It doesn't mean I can't be there for you—"

"That's exactly what it means." Brian wheels himself away. The one time he looks at her throughout the encounter, it's only long enough to utter, "Et tu, Brute?"

Emily watches as Brian goes to join his friend and leaves her standing there with the untouched tacos her drug slinging money bought for him. She ends up saving the tacos for the boys at work because that's where she goes next. She picks up whatever extra shifts she can because work is a nice distraction. Rigo and Brad's banter always lifts her spirits somewhat.

"Are you sure you're okay, Em?"

"About as okay as you right now," she replies. "I just don't get why things can't every be stable, you know? It's like all we do is stumble and fall."

"You know what they say, life it tough; get a helmet." Lauren gives her this smile that's dim, but so full of effort. Emily can see why Kaylie would want to live a life away from Lauren Tanner, but actually going through with it is unimaginable to Emily. "I'll pick you up tonight. Keep holding on, Kemmy-Ko."

"Because we'll make it through. _LoTan_."

When Emily walks into the Shack, she isn't met by the BMX bikeheads arm wrestling for money from the tip jar, but instead, Rigo has his exited smile on as he holds his phone out and snaps a picture of himself with Emily's ex-boyfriend. Damon looks less than thrilled about the fan encounter, but Rigo is so starstruck he doesn't notice. Emily freezes in the doorway, waiting for him to disappear like a mirage. He doesn't.

When Damon spots her near the door, his forced smile softens into something more real, sadder. Emily feels a wave of goosebumps trail up and down her arms. How could she have forgotten those eyes? Emily cautions herself against his natural ability to compel.

"Kmetko! Look who's here! Look who came in _looking for you_!" Rigo yells across the room. She takes careful steps over and turns to her coworker with a small smile, excited about his excitement. She still _feels_ Damon's eyes and it leaves her flustered. "All the times we talked about Damon Young and not once did you think to mention you knew him?"

"You talk about me?" Damon asks. Emily hears the smile in the musical rise of his voice. Damn him and his damn sweet voice.

"Only about how you're a one hit wonder!" comes a voice from the kitchen. Brad.

"He's just jealous," Rigo says. He clasps Damon's shoulder with his ape-hand. Damon is clearly disturbed by Rigo's casual oblivious. Emily finds it oddly satisfying.

"Damon, what are you doing here?" she asks.

"Like Rigo said—" If she wasn't so keyed up, Emily would be amuse by the way Rigo practically does a backflip over Damon knowing his name. "—I was hoping you'd be working."

"How did you know I work here?"

"Stalker!" Brad interjects. Emily smiles a little.

"AJ Cruz, actually," Damon says. "You must be pretty great for him to be so protective. He has not been making my stay in Colorado all that pleasant. I'm pretty sure he'll break my kneecaps with an autographed baseball bat if he finds I was here."

"Are you asking me to tell AJ to back off?"

"No, Emily, of course not." Damon stops when he realizes Rigo is still standing between them, following their interaction like a tennis match. "Hey, Rigo, can you give us a sec?"

"Oh, yeah, for sure. But just to be clear, whatever's happening here," he motions between Emily and Damon with wiggling fingers, "isn't going to interfere with the show, right?"

"What show?" Emily asks.

"The super secret acoustic set Damon's going to play here!" Rigo explains. Emily's ready to change his name to _fanboy_ in her phone. "If I can get Doug to okay it—which I'm sure he will because any exposure for the Shack is good exposure—Damon agreed to do a little intimate jam sesh since he's in town, working on his new record."

"I've been waiting a really long time for you to get here." Damon nods to Rigo. "Sure, man. Em, can we talk?"

She glances at the clock. Why did she come into work early again? She should have entertained Lauren's suggestion that they drive around aimlessly, blasting old Jesse McCartney songs for a little while longer.

In a wordless agreement, Emily starts toward one of the booths towards the back and Damon follows. On his way to the kitchen, Rigo nearly knocks over a trashcan from how he's still watching Damon. Even from across the room, Emily and Damon can hear Rigo's loud, enthusiastic chatter. The words are hard to decipher, infused with excitement.

"He's…interesting," Damon says. "I think the other one likes you."

"So where've you been?"

This isn't a conversation between two old friends. Emily gets straight to the point.

"Look, Emily, that's not what I'm here to talk about."

"Unbelievable! You can't do this, okay? You can't mysteriously send me flowers and sing songs to me over the phone and come by my work and make my coworker fall in love with you. As if it wasn't hard enough getting over you while you were nowhere to be found. How do you expect me to move on when you're invading my life like this?"

"What if I don't want you to move on?" Damon's fingers twitch like he's itching to grab her hand, to hold it, to connect. She doesn't give him the opportunity and keeps her hands off the table along with her heart. "Okay, I know. That isn't fair. And to be honest, I'm not in a place where I could even be in a relationship, but I don't want things to be like this."

"What are things even like, Damon?"

"Going from being together and very much in love to wanting absolutely nothing to do with each another. I've played with the formula before: friends, lovers and ending up strangers. It always felt like the natural order of romance, but I never cared about anyone as much as you. Now it all just seems stupid—brushing it off when at one point it meant the world to me. _Us_."

He has that slow, romantic way of talking. It hurts to resist, but she knows it'll hurt even more if she trusts him just to watch him disappear all over again.

"But why revisit something proven not to work?"

Damon gently knocks his knuckles against the table, stuck.

"Hey, Kmetko!" From over by the door, Carter waves at her. He's high, so freaking high. Emily sinks a bit further down in the booth. "Are we gonna rock this shift or what?"

Emily halfheartedly smiles and lifts her hand in an almost-wave as Carter announces that he has the munchies and heads into the kitchen.

"You sure are popular around here." Damon gives her a lazy one-eighth of a smile.

"You didn't answer my question, Damon."

"Emily, I'm not asking to revisit how we used to be, alright? I already know I'd end up disappointing you and that's the last thing I want. I just don't want us to be strangers. I care about you and that's too special to kill just because we aren't in a relationship."

"It's not that easy, Damon. You won't even tell me where you've been or what you've been doing and, oh, we haven't talked about how you got your manager to break up with me!"

"I know that was a shitty move, but…"

"I need to get to work." Emily starts to walk away, but then spins around, shifting her weight from foot to foot, weighing her options. "I'm not going to do you any favors with AJ and I'm not going to tell you to call off your show at the Shack. But I'm telling you that I need closure. I need to know what was so important that you cut ties with everyone. Until you can give me that, Damon, being strangers is all I can handle. Because that's what we are."

…

"It's official. Henley Sheppard, you are the new Kaylie."

Lauren drags a brush dipped in baby doll pink across Henley's middle fingernail. Emily is across the room, standing in front of the full-length mirror in her Pizza Shack uniform, collecting her hair to be tied up.

Without looking up from the notes Marcus wrote in the margins of Lauren's most recent essay, Henley asks, "Is that supposed to be offensive?"

Emily makes a face at herself in the mirror. "It's one of those things Lauren says and we all pretend we didn't hear. Lauren replaces Kaylie all the time."

"Not _all the time_." Lauren dips the brush into the cylinder and goes to coat the next nail. "Okay, Ike was a total snap judgment, but this time I've had a few days since our public display of alienation. I personally think Henley is the _perfect _Kaylie replacement. She likes books like you, she has the whole robotic determination thing going on like Pay and she appreciates the art of fashion like muah. I smell Four material. I dare you to argue."

Emily plays with the strands of hair that she didn't quite catch. She doesn't say anything. Though she refuses to acknowledge it, Lauren is still bruised over the encounter and hasn't spoken to Kaylie since.

"Lo, I know things are rough right now, but we can't shun Kaylie."

"I'm not talking about suddenly cutting her out of our lives. What kind of person do you think I am, Emily? That's why I need you to start working on her termination e-mail." Lauren finishes Henley's last nail and recaps the nail polish. "Chop, chop!"

"Quick question," Henley says. "Who's Kaylie again?"

"The one I told you about. The bitchy princess who thinks she owns the world."

"Lauren!" Emily scolds. "We aren't calling Kaylie _the bitchy princess_. She's our friend."

"Ah." Henley nods. "The one whose boyfriend embodies the typical male stereotype of being emotionally inexpressive and so she thinking it's the woman's job to coax him into expressing said emotions in order to keep the relationship conflict free." Lauren nods and grabs a bottle of clear coat from the vanity drawer. "It's a destructive trap, her putting his needs above hers or holding herself responsible for his emotions in general. Someone should tell her."

Lauren laughs. "Good luck. Not like Kaylie listens to anyone except bestie, Maeve Benson."

Emily takes her turn to rationalize. "Kaylie thinks Payson and I chose Lauren over her. Maeve, on the other hand, never would. And you have to admit you do talk about Maeve like she's a horseman of the apocalypse. More than you ever did about Kelly Parker."

"Kelly Parker is so last season's Big Bad," Lauren says, "but I should probably watch my back after dropping the whole Nicky and Kelly bomb. I had a rage blackout, I swear."

"Hmm, sure. Is Payson still not talking to you?" Emily asks.

"Yeah, but I can't exactly start Operation Make Pay Love Me Again until she gets back," Lauren reasons. "I'm just so sick of dwelling on all of this. It's Friday and you know what they say…"

"What is '_thank God it's Friday'_?" Henley guesses.

"I'm sorry, that's incorrect," Lauren replies. "The answer we were looking for comes from the song by American recording artist, Rebecca Black. _Gotta get down on Friday._"

Henley deadpans. "_Wh_at does that even mean?"

Emily walks over so Lauren can see her in the reflection of the vanity mirror. "So you're going to ignore everything going on with Kaylie and get trashed?"

"Yes?" The only reason Lauren winces is Emily's concern. "These days Kaylie seems less like our friend and more like the girl who has all her shit constantly mixed up to the point where it makes her legitly insane. It makes _me_ legitly insane. Can't I put it aside for one night?"

"Legitly isn't a word," Emily and Henley say at the same time.

"See. My point exactly! Kaylie wouldn't know that. Kaylie wouldn't even think to question it. Henley wouldn't randomly start shit with _me_ because she's sexually frustrated."

"Lauren's right. I wouldn't," Henley agrees. "I'd rather not engage in petty drama."

"A non-engager. Exactly what we need!" Lauren raises her eyebrows at Emily who denies the request. "Fine. Whatever. Are you sure you have to work tonight? I'm not trying to make you jealous, but things are going to get cray."

"Gee, Lo, I wish," Emily says with mock disappointment. "But the schedule has been out for a week now and it's too late to try to find a replacement. Plus, I could really use the money."

Lauren slides the brush back into the bottle and hops over to sit on the bed with Emily. Henley complains about how only one set of her fingernails are clear coated, but Lauren ignores her and wraps her arms around Emily. They haven't talked about the other afternoon outside of Brian's school and Lauren has been quietly worrying ever since.

"You know money isn't an issue, right?" Lauren assures her.

"No, Lo. No more mooching off you." Emily tilts her head and her bangs swish across her forehead. "So, what are you two up to on a wild Friday night in Boulder?"

Lauren excitedly shimmies her hips. It's proof that not all instances of Lo being Lo have to be negative. "No more nights spent in pajamas with my DVD collection. Henley and I are getting all dolled up and sluttified and we are going to a dirty, crazy frat party!"

"I'm praying you know 'sluttified' isn't a real word." Henley carefully adds a clear coat to each of her nails, but when Lauren's words resonate in her head, the brush veers so polish seeps into the crack between nail and skin. "Wait, we're what?"

"You heard right. Henley P. Sheppard, I am corrupting you!" Lauren needs something to focus on. It might as well be social rehabilitation. She briefly wonders if she can put this on a college application. "You need to get out of the house and Dar has been nagging me about seeing the girls at CU Boulder. Who knows? Maybe Henley will get laid."

Emily sets her jaw. "Lauren."

"Em, chill." Lauren laughs. "You're acting like I'm about to throw her into a knife fight with a spork. Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise. Can you imagine how pissed Razor would be if something did and he found out I was babysitting?"

"I don't need a babysitter," Henley says. "Wow, Lauren, your genuine concern for my wellbeing is staggering, really."

"Henley, all you do while we're at school is hang around here, alone, and watch the History Channel. Those shoes I gave you are too hot to waste away in your luggage. My house. My rules. And I get to do your makeup and your hair and choose your outfit!"

After she recaps the nail polish, Henley's shoulders slump. "Do I have to?"

Emily laughs. "Live in the Barbie dream house, live by Barbie's rules. That includes dress up."

"Lucky me." Henley's sarcasm needs no hashtag. "And next maybe we can bring the convertible by for that Barbie pink paintjob it's lacking. Sounds like a grand ol' time. I don't know why I haven't visited you Colorado kids before now."

"Hey, don't put ideas in her head," Emily warns. A phone buzzes and Lauren notices that it isn't the cell Emily has had for years now. It's just as simple, but all black. Emily turns it over in her palm, types back a quick text and shoves it into her back pocket. "My ride's here. Lo, how are you getting home? I don't want you drinking and driving. If you need me to ask Ja—"

"I won't be drinking," Lauren assures her. Emily stops everything she's doing and gives her blonde friend a stern look. "Emily Kmetko, I'm perfectly capable of being sober _and _fun at the same time. If anything, we'll call a cab. I don't need you to set us up with a DD. It'll be fine."

"Okay. Be safe." Emily shrugs on a sweater while simultaneously sliding her feet into her flats. "And give Henley the speech about open drinks, _especially_ from Darby."

"I'll loan her the rape whistle too." Just before Emily walks out the door, Lauren shouts, "Wait, how are you getting to work? _Please_ tell me it isn't Red Beanie Boy. You know I don't like you hanging out with him outside of tutoring. He gives me bad vibes."

Emily smiles at Lauren's concern and grabs her canvas bag off the floor. "Ike is waiting. I want him to do some extra practice problems and he volunteered to drive me, probably hoping to get free food out of it. You two have fun tonight. I'll probably be home before you."

Lauren sees the pain on Emily's face when she realizes she referred to the Tanner house as _home_. Lauren is ready to hug it out, but before she can, Emily waves and rushes out.

"Text me if anything! _Especially_ if that damn Damon Young harasses you again!" Lauren shouts after her. Though she hears Emily shout back, "okay!" it doesn't make Lauren rest any easier. "Jesus. When did I become such a _mom_?"

"She's trying really hard not to like him," Henley says. "Red Beanie Boy. Damon too."

"I know. I also know she's still in love with Damon."

After putting the polish back where it belongs, Henley spins to face Lauren. "If it's of any comfort to you, I've known Damon for a long time and I've never seen him so serious and so happy in a relationship."

"Same with Emily." Lauren pulls one knee up to her chest and wrapping her arm around it. "I also haven't seen her break down over someone the way she did when he disappeared."

Henley doesn't react, just holds her fingernails out to the light for a better view.

"Alright. I was serious about no more depressing crap. It's Fridays!" Lauren can mask it so easily. At least, it comes easy to her. She could care less about how the outside world interprets it. "Henley Sheppard, we are going to this party and we aren't leaving until you are _so_ _trashed_ you stop correcting my grammar and pointing out how I enjoy using made up words. Too bad it isn't an Aztec party. We finally have a virgin to sacrifice."

Henley is a pretty little pedantic doll and eases Lauren's Only Child Syndrome. Lauren loses herself in pallets of colors and tubes of gloss. She holds up a pair of scissors and makes a _She's All That_ reference, but it flies right over Henley's head.

"Lauren, there's a Clash of the Gods marathon starting with Beowulf and Norse mythology; then the legend of the Minotaur! Odysseus! Wouldn't you rather stay in tonight?"

"No." Lauren doesn't even add the _duh_ because that much must be obvious. "There's this neat little modern godsend called the DVR. Just hit record and you can watch it tomorrow. Shep, your giraffe legs look _fab_ in that dress. We aren't about to let it go to waste."

Lauren has to literally drag Henley out the door. They drive with the hood up because they spent all that time on their hair and it's low fifties out, give or take a few degrees. Within the next week or two, the spring weather should start moving in, sunshine, high sixties and seventies. With how campus housing is partying it must mean dead week and finals are approaching. They have to get it all out before hibernating in the library until spring break.

The ZBZ sorority house is a teenage boy's wet dream (minus broken pillows and feathers all around) because president, Dictator Diana Meade, demands perfection. Watching Henley trying to adapt to her environment is like watching a long legged baby animal try to walk for the first time. She's a social nightmare, but the other girls find it amusing, already on their third round of shots, pre-gaming before the party.

"Your friend is strange." Darby bounces up to Lauren and slings her thin, glittery arm around her former grasshopper's neck. "Do I want to know where you found this one?"

"Call me Lauren Tanner: patron saint of the socially retarded." Lauren gives her a mischievous smile. "I don't want her throwing up in my car, but drunk enough to loosen up."

"My specialty." Darby grabs ahold of Brie Mason, a blonde girl with blue eyes, a little too much eyeliner and a Los Angeles Lakers snapback hat sitting crooked atop her head. Darby whispers in her ear and Brie giggles before sashaying over to the others and announces it's time for another round. They break out the unmarked bottle of tequila, limes and salt. "Why don't you and your girl crash at the house tonight? You seem a little tense. In need of some unwinding of your own. In the morning, after nursing the newbies' hangovers, we have group hot yoga and I'm craving kale smoothies."

Lauren bites back the _ew_. Kale smoothies? Really?

"Thanks, but no thanks. Emily is working the night shift at the Shack. I don't want her home alone tonight. She's going through stuff." Lauren is vague mostly because she doesn't quite understand what Emily is going through herself. She just knows that she has to be there.

"Poor Em. I hope everything's okay," Darby says. "Heads up, Theta Kappa Kappa hoes are going to be _everywhere _tonight. I hear Puckerman has been Walk of Shaming out of there."

Lauren snorts. "TMI, Dar."

"Stay away from the dogs, Baby Sis."

A couple of the other Zetas call them over for shots and Henley makes a valid case against binge drinking, but peer pressure wins out. Lauren knows the girl is on some sort of pills, but Henley won't be operating heavy machinery and isn't pregnant. Everyone should experience what it's like to tell life to fuck itself and get shitfaced at least once.

"Four shots and seven Jäger bombs ago! Our forefathers brought something…something about conceive—conceiv_ing_?" Darby giggles, standing atop the dining room table, making another of her infamous drunk history speeches. "_Conceive-duh_. Anyways, I don 'member the rest, but Abe Lincoln did some stuff. He was a good dude so Imma try to 'member the rest…"

"LT, your girl is making a fool outta herself."

Jake grins at her, a frat boy with a grin so animated it borderlines on cartoonish. His classic black hoodie has Greek letters across the chest in yellow, CU school colors. He has an empty water bottle in one hand and playfully drums it against the palm of his other. He drags the tip of his tongue across his lips, blatantly checking her out. Shy is the last word you'd use to describe Jake.

"_My girl_? Suddenly Darby is no longer your _sister_ and _my_ responsibility?"

Jake rubs his hand over his cleanly buzzed head. "Didn't you hear her? Four shots _and_ _seven Jägerbombs ago_. _Damn_, she is murdering the Gettysburg Address. Poor Abe's probably rollin' in his tomb." When he sees her looking at him, Jake smiles. "W'sup, Barbie. Where're the other dolls? We need to keep up our tradition of failing to pressure Emily into drinking."

"Work," Lauren answers. "And before you ask, I'm warning you, don't mention Kaylie."

"Okay, cool, but you know I gotta ask about _that one _over there."

Jake nods into the next room. Henley has no tolerance for liquor whatsoever. Lauren almost regrets cheering her on as she made her way through hards like a divorcees through speed dating. The girl wobbles and smiles and talks loud with her arm around the girl in the Laker snapback, a girl she barely knows. With alcohol in her system, Henley apparently develops multiple personality disorder, transforming from one Spice Girl to the next every few minutes. Her British accent is dead on. Henley is a hit at the party, especially with the boys.

"Mine," Lauren says. "Do me a favor, Jay? Get it circulating that she's with me. I don't want any of your gross frat brothers or musclehead wrestlers or worst of all, Boulder Boozers trying to get their meaty fingers on her."

"_Damn_. House Mother Tanner." Jake grabs one of his boys who's easily 6'3" and built like a brick wall. After a quick conversation and pounding fists, Jake's back at her side. "So, you aren't drinking, you're using your scare tactics for good, not evil, _and_ the kicker—words like _responsibility_. What high school boy tied you down?"

"No boy." Lauren feels a little thrill. She never thought that'd feel so good to say.

"You still runnin' with AJ Cruz?"

"I wouldn't say _running_. We still talk. Did you hear he's a dad?"

"Yeah, Amelia. Cute kid. My parents and Darby love her. I hear AJ's pretty _responsible_ when it comes to playing baby daddy. Poor Shauna's gotta put up with that."

"Have you seen them together? She likes having him shackled to her. She seems happy." Lauren's expression can only be described as grim acceptance. "They seem happy together."

Jake nods, still observing Henley, who screams, "No, I take French! Why is everyone speaking Spanish? I only know _hola_!"

Jake laughs aloud and the amusement in his voice makes Lauren feel a surge of pride. She created an amusing little drunk monster and is proud. With her attention on Jake, Lauren asks, "So what's your deal? Why aren't you wasted and sloppily hitting on me yet?"

"Pshh, please, girl, I'm an athlete." Jake grins. If he had a collar, he'd pop it. "We have a meet this weekend. I tend to do better when I'm sober. Just showing face here. Why aren't you wasted and playing hard to get?"

Lauren smiles more at the memories than anything. It was a fun game once upon a time.

"Designated driver. Even if we had a DD, I don't know. I just don't feel like it. I can't exactly look out for Henley when I can't see straight."

Jake's expression changes to one of intrigue. It isn't a bad thing. It just isn't typical of them. She doesn't think he's ever looked at her quite like this before. "You're different. It's cool."

Lauren meets his stare and finds respect in his eyes.

"Anddd you're _still_ trying to get me to sleep with you." Lauren pokes him hard right in the middle of his chest and Jake falls back a step with another laugh.

"What can I say, LT? When you got the charm you can't help, but be charming."

Before Lauren can tell him how full of himself he is, someone bumps her from behind. She turns and sees a gorgeous drunk girl in a ΘKK tank top, a cowboy hat and matching boots. There's a beer in her hand, but luckily she catches herself before spilling any on Lauren. She mutters, "sorry, darling," with a Southern accent and keeps moving. Lauren rolls her eyes when she notices Jake checking out the girl's ass.

Lauren playfully scoffs. "Ugh, Theta Kappa Kappa girls. Sloppy. Sloppy. Sloppy."

Jake smirks. "More like hot. Hot. Hot."

Lauren bumps him with her shoulder and makes his smirk even wide. When her clutch vibrates, Lauren pulls out her iPhone and finds a photo of Razor. Lauren had taken it at the post-wedding party. His ears are bright red, but his hair is still perfect. His shirt is halfway off and he had two of his cherished plastic cups ("They're like _the symbol_ of teenage debauchery!") suggestively placed on his chest. She smiles whenever she sees it.

Jake laughs. "No boy, huh?"

"Jealous Jake." Lauren slides her finger across the screen and presses her phone into her shoulder to muffle the noise. "I need to take this." Lauren nods to where Henley is trying to teach Darby the actual Gettysburg Address. "Watch her, Jake. If one of your ogre friends—"

Jake stomps hard against the scuffed floorboards and playfully salutes her. "Yes, ma'am."

Lauren gives him a shove with her palm flat against his chest just to show him she's serious. If this were a year ago, Jake would grab onto her and pull her close and work her with his smile. Instead, he gives her a nod and the respect never leaves his eyes. Even Jake can tell she outgrew the Boozer lifestyle and that's the second time Lauren fills with pride.

"Hello? Ray? Sorry. It's a little noisy."

"If you're busy it's cool."

"I always make time for you. Duh. What's up?" Lauren walks out to the back of the house that has a large wooden deck. The cold air feels good against her hot skin. Away from the chaos, she can finally breathe. "Ray, still there?"

Lauren can't tell if the weather or the dead air between them, but it makes her shiver.

"So we're really going to do this? We're going to act like things haven't been totally weird for the last week?"

"Razor, don't be ridiculous. I told you. Things have been crazy."

"_Lau_rennn!" Henley sings with her newly acquired British accent. "We were talkin' 'bout you 'n Darby thinks you'll grow up 'n marry Jake 'n have unfairly attractive biracial babies, but then I was, like, no way José! My broseph's got dibs! I'm learning _so_ many new words ta-night!"

Henley collides with Lauren and wraps her arms around the blonde in an embrace much too loving for Henley's usual demeanor. Lauren moves the phone away, about to hiss, "shut up," when she hears Razor's confused voice.

"Henley?"

"S'at my brother?" With unnatural, unexpected strength, Henley wrestles the phone away from Lauren and stumbles away from the blonde. "Ray, Boulder is _so much_ fun! Forget Harvard law! I want to come to CU Boulder and major in Beer Pong! And! And! Colorado Barbie is here and she's great, _so great_. I mean, she isn't Jody, but I definitely approve!"

"Henley, give me the phone back!" Lauren yanks it away before chants of "Posh! Posh! Posh!" come from the open sliding door, coaxing Henley back to the beer pong table. Once her social experiment gone drunk is nowhere in sight, Lauren takes a deep breath. "Ray?"

"Was that my sister?"

"Yes?"

"Is she drunk?"

"Maybe?"

"What is going on, Lauren?"

She literally smacks her palm against her forehead, looking from side to side, searching for an easy fix, but all she finds is darkness.

…

Payson has come to learn that there are certain steps you take when dealing with Kelly Parker and her uncontrollable, all consuming rage.

Step one: do nothing.

"Do nothing?" Austin asks. Payson nods with certainty. "Keeler, I'm pretty sure your best friend is in the middle of a complete psychotic episo—"

A loud, high-pitch growl bounces off the walls of the room Payson and Kelly are sharing in Florida. Payson sits on the corner of her bed, leaning back on her palms while Austin is beside her. Across the room, Kelly sits at a round table with the phonebook. The TV is on, but it might as well be on mute because the sounds of an angry Kelly Parker drown it out. When she sees Austin looking at Kelly like she's a bearded woman at the circus, she smacks him.

"Quit staring at her."

"Payson, how can you not? She's freaking out."

It's true. Payson's features soften with both sympathy and concern. Kelly's face is a mask of pure, raw anger. She doesn't once glance at her two-person audience. Kelly claws at the phonebook, tearing pages out, crumpling and shredding, letting the tiny pieces rain down and cover the floor of their hotel room. The imagery reminds them both of a hotel room in Texas.

"So, how did all your Kobalt promos go?"

Trying to follow Payson's casual lead, Austin gives his girlfriend an easy smile. "Nailed it. Per usual. And your lips are still the last lips I've kissed."

Payson tries to play it coo, but she can't deny that it makes her feel good to know that. Smiling, Payson leans in and gives him a quick kiss.

"What about you girls?"

"Still Payson Keeler, Gymnastics Sweetheart." Payson gives him the biggest, most innocent smile she can and it reminds her of how sore her cheeks are for having to smile for interviews. Payson's eyes skirt across the room. "What about you? Gymnastics Bad Girl?"

Kelly makes no indication that she heard the question or that she even realizes other people are in the room. She just angrily tears through more pages, muttering beneath her breath.

"As Faith would say, Kelly _killed it_, which isn't surprising. Kelly's always been good with the press, even when we were kids." Payson remembers how the cameras and interviewers would beeline for Kelly after she took Junior Nationals and how Kelly always knew how to act.

"So am I allowed to ask why she's mutilating the phonebook?"

"Touchy subject. I've already tried, which I now know isn't helpful. You can't skip steps," Payson says. "We're lucky she didn't explode right in the middle of dinner and managed to hold it together. Right now, all she wants to do is not talk about it and take her anger out on something that won't involve property damage fees or hospital visits."

Austin nods. "Good call."

Payson turns over and casts Kelly another look. "Hey, you better pace yourself! Once you run out of pages, I am not letting you rip up the Bible, Kelly Parker!"

"We might need it for the exorcism," Austin murmurs, only loud enough for Payson to hear. Payson playfully pushes him and Austin smirks, grabbing her hand and tracing the bumps of her knuckles with his finger.

"Be nice, Tucker," Payson says. "We don't know what it's about so hold the judgment."

"Fair enough. It does look like it's helping her. Sorta." Austin squints at Kelly. She remains in a state of perpetual rage with paper flying everywhere. "Maybe when I get back to my room I'll go a few rounds in the ring with the phonebook in there."

Payson slowly stretches her back and turns onto her side, facing Austin. "I've been meaning to ask about that. Lately, it's like you're always on your phone and not happy about it. Not to mention how stressed out you seem. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah."

She calls him out with narrowed eyes and a tense bottom lip. Austin lies on his side, angled towards her, with his face propped up on his hand. "Things are a little Rocky at home and it's a little frustrating to play referee through the phone. Kelly and Faith like to rip paper when they're upset? Ava, she has a different way of expressing herself."

"Ava. Your sister?"

Austin nods. "Don't get me wrong, my parents are great, but they don't know what she needs. Can't blame them. Like hell I know what she needs. I don't even think Ava knows."

"Her big brother, maybe?"

Austin smiles, entwining their fingers. "How do you do this?"

"Do what?"

"Just slow everything down for me. When I'm with you, it gets easier to push everything else away and just be with you. It's fucking awesome." He leans in until his nose grazes hers and Payson's face crinkles in delight. "And I'm sorry if I've been an ass lately, or, well, a bigger ass than usual. I guess I have a different way of expression too. Tuckerian."

Payson laughs. "Nu-uh. No. It doesn't have the same ring as Faithism."

"Yeah, I figured once I said it."

Her fingers trail along the leather sleeves of his jacket that he insists on wearing despite how it's nearly eighty degrees out. When he leans in to kiss her it's with such certainty and she kisses him back to show how she trusts him. Payson runs her fingers through his hair, just above his ear, but a moment later, she pulls away, almost startled. All of Austin's confidence falls away and is replayed with confusion. Payson digs her hand into the pocket of her sweater and pulls out a Blackberry. It isn't hers. It's Kelly's.

Payson answers it. "Hello. Kelly Parker's phone. Please hold."

The sound of paper being torn to bits ceases and Kelly hones in on her blonde friend. She marches across the room within seconds and Payson reacts quickly, standing from the foot of her bed and holding the phone high above both their heads.

"Keeler, give me my phone!"

"No. You told me not to let you handle your phone because you might end up breaking it," Payson says. "Remember when Marty called to check in with you? We made a deal, Kelly. I buffer your calls so it doesn't end up in pieces."

"Payson!"

"Who do you want it to be?"

"Nick," she answers. Then glares at Austin. "Don't even start, Tucker. I'll even take Faith."

Payson looks at the screen and presses it back into her shoulder. "It says Smoke Monster?"

"Hang up. Do it!"

Payson presses the phone to her ear and quickly rattles off. "Sorry. Kelly Parker is unavailable at the moment. If you'd like to leave a message—"

Before Payson can finish, Kelly pries the phone away. Once it's in her possession, Kelly shouts into the receiver. "Stop trying to talk to me!"

After pressing the end button as hard as humanly possible, Kelly throws out her arms in frustration. Before the phone can slip, Payson manages to steal it back. Kelly clenches her fists and sets her eyes on a pillow, seizing it and using it to beat the edge of her bed.

"Why does she keep friggin' calling?" Kelly yells. More violent swinging, teeth gritting and growls follow. Unlike the movies, the pillow remains intact despite the beating it's taking. "Can she not friggin' take a hint? I don't want to talk to her!"

Just as Kelly swings the pillow, the edges slips and it goes flying, knocking the lamp off the nightstand. They all watch as it flops onto the bed instead of the ground. Kelly doesn't even care, just shoves the mangled phonebook clear off the table and starts kicking it.

"Sheesh," Austin says. "And she said _I_ need anger management?"

Kelly takes a long, deep breath and finally collapses with her legs folded beneath her and paper all around.

"Step two. You wait for Kelly to want to talk to you," Payson tells Austin. She goes over and sits with Kelly on the floor. "Ready to talk about it?"

"Maybe." Kelly remains blank, so tired and zombie-like. "Tucker, get out."

"Alright, calm down. I can take a direct order." Austin leans over the side of the bed to kiss the side of Payson's face. "Call me before you go to sleep," he whispers into her hair. Payson turns and kisses him fully on the lips before letting him go. "And, hey, if I ever need a phonebook exterminator, you're the first on my list, KP."

Kelly is too exhausted to react. The girls are silent up until Austin shuts the door after him. Payson picks at a piece of paper and examines it to keep from staring at Kelly. "You're lucky maid service is complimentary. We should probably tip."

"I don't know if I can tell you yet," Kelly says. "I need to tell someone, but…"

Payson nods. "You'd rather Nicky or Faith. I get it."

"Nick, mostly because he was right there with me when everything…sucked."

A phone sounds, but this time it's Payson's. She silences the call. "Lauren _again_."

Kelly holds her hand out to Payson, who takes it and gets back to her feet. They shuffle through the bits of paper over to Payson's bed and sit against the headboard, side by side.

"You're upset because Lauren told Kaylie about Nick and me?"

"Yeah, but it's more than that. It's the way Lauren did it. If she told Kaylie because it was eating her up inside, My Conscience Made Me Do It type thing then, okay, I respect that. But I'm sure Lauren just wanted to one-up Kaylie in one of their fights. Are you upset about this?"

"I've got bigger things weighing on me right now. Nick will probably feel more of the backlash than me. I just think it's weird, you know? Your friends, who I don't even know, are all talking about something that was strictly between Nick and me and, I don't know, special or whatever. Your friends don't even know us and yet they're talking about it as easy as talking about something on TV or online. It's weird, but I guess we do it all the time."

"I'm sorry."

"Payson, don't apologize. You aren't the blabbermouth. Austin is so on my List."

Payson nods. Fair enough.

"So, does the death of the phonebook have anything to do with Sheila Buboyan? I saw you talking to her before dinner and assumed. Was she your manager at some point?"

"It's so much more complicated than that." Kelly sighs. "She's my mom."

Payson's eyes grow wipe just as Kelly's phone rings again. It rings three more times before Kelly smacks Payson's arm, prompting her to answer it. "I, uh, hi. Kelly Parker's phone…hey, Nicky." Kelly's face lights up in a way that makes Payson smile. She pays little attention to the implication. It just makes her happy to see Kelly pick herself up. "Kelly's right here."

She holds the phone out, but before Kelly can take it, Payson pulls away.

"Are you going to break it?"

"Keeler, shut up." Kelly reaches again. Denied again.

"You'll tell me after, right? About your…Smoke Monster?"

Kelly nods before Payson lets her have her phone back. "I'll take it out on the balcony."

"No. Stay. I need to get out of here for a bit anyways."

Payson makes her way to the door, still trying to digest what Kelly told her. Kelly never talks about her parents and Payson is starting to see why. When the elevator doors swoop open, there is a horde of reporters and photographers in the lobby when their hotel is supposed to be a media free zone. It isn't surprising that Flex Jordan is at the center of all the commotion.

"Flex! Is it true that once Conrad Cooper announced his retirement, you started celebrating?"

"You bet I did. In style, too." Flex winks at the reporters. "Don't get me wrong. That ain't vanity neither. That's the straight up truth. Unless you're a tiger shark or a pack a piranha, there's no way you're taking down Flex Jordan." When he spots her staring, Flex walks right over to Payson and throws his arm around her. "Look! It's my pal, Payson Keeler. By this time tomorrow, her and me are gone be reppin' our fine country, matching gold, baby."

Payson forces on a smile. She doesn't know when exactly it became a reflex. Once the reports get chased out of the lobby by hotel security, Payson sneaks out from under Flex's hold.

"What was that all about?" she asks.

Flex smiles. "I've got a proposition, sweetheart."

…

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Note<strong>: So, this update wasn't planned, but you have been so patient and great and honest with us so we thought we should keep you updated on what's going on. Life happens. We aren't exactly hermits. The moment we started getting excited about writing #WeFaB again, we checked our e-mail today and got the biggest motherfucking slap in the face.

**_Life, Love and Denim_, _Do I Dare Disturb the Universe_, and _I Have Faith_ have been deleted by FF without warning.** Apparently, they're cracking down on their rules, doing a mass purge of stories and since we use "inappropriate language" in the summaries, they've been taken down and our account was suspended for a bit. All our hard work, time, effort, blood, sweat, tears, sleeplessly summer nights, AND all of your thoughtful, lovely reviews are gone forever. No warning; just e-mail notifications after the fact.

We are _devastated_ and don't know where to go from here. We're considering uploading what we can salvage somewhere else, moving all of our stories somewhere else and continuing there. It isn't fair to you, we know, but we're fucking hurting right now and there's nothing to do but feel it.

Suggestions are welcomed. Definitely tell us what you thought about this chapter. As for the future, we aren't sure. What we do know is that we need some time to be angry and to grieve and figure things out. We gave years of our lives to this site and we got fucked over in return. We hope you understand. This place we're in right now, our universe wiped out completely, to be frank, fucking sucks. Being blindsided like this fucking sucks! Censorship fucking sucks! Ugh. So this is the state of things. Yes, it fucking sucks.

**Review**.

**P.S.** If you reported us, man up, PM us and own up to it. We deserve that much.

#LLDFOREVER #sadface


	15. Ships at a Distance

**Warning:** Savor this update. There's no telling when the next one will be.

* * *

><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

Lauren has created a monster and that monster goes by Henley Sheppard. Her eyes are evenly traced with black lines, dramatic color smeared across her eyelids and her lips are lightly glossed. She earned the heels she's wearing by helping Lauren with an essay on colonization of early Eastern America and walks with the confidence of a bitch that knows she's hot. Lauren didn't completely change Henley. No one can make Henley tone down her automatic grammar snob corrections or get her to turn off the History Channel, but Lauren convinced Henley to live outside her comfort zone and updated her wardrobe.

When Lauren forgets her planner at school and has no idea what assignments are due tomorrow, she drags Henley to Taft. Lauren complained when Henley insisted on dressing up and begs her to go to Barney & Noble afterwards. As Lauren leads the way to her locker, Henley looks around, fascinated, like Jane Goodall in the wild.

"It's exactly how I imagined public school to look," Henley muses.

"Far from your snooty private school?"

"Remarkably."

Shane steps into their path with a lacrosse stick resting on his shoulder. His eyes are on Henley, who's oblivious to the attention as always. Henley is the type of girl who's definitely left a trail of broken hearts in her past and probably doesn't even realize it.

"Hey," Shane says. "Who's your new friend, Lauren?"

Lauren's arm snakes through Henley's, yanking her closer. "Mention muffins or the buttering of muffins and you'll need a new face when her stilettos are done with you," Lauren warns him. "Quit while you're ahead. She's out of your league."

They fly past the Royal asshole and Henley doesn't argue. Shane isn't even remotely her type. Henley is more attracted to leather-bound gentlemen. Books, that is.

Lauren singles out her locker and twirl the knob. Suddenly, Henley shakes Lauren, almost making her fumble before getting the last digit of her combination.

"Exceptionally handsome gentleman caller coming this way!" Henley whispers.

Lauren swears that if the "exceptionally handsome" _gentleman caller_ (Really, Henley? Does she have a glass menagerie at home too?) is Ike, she will literally gag. What a weird couple they'd make. With or without the heels, Henley is taller than him.

Wearing a fitted sweater with alternating stripes, Max walks over. Lauren rummages through her locker, being purposefully avoidant. She knows she can't blame him for what transpired between her and Kaylie, but it does take two to flirt and Max Spencer is the reason Kaylie and Lauren had the stupid fight in the first place. Not to mention the role his newly ex-girlfriend played in all of it—Royal Puppet Master Maeve.

"You missed the meeting," Max points out. "I find broken nails just as tragic as the next guy, but it's sort of apart of your deal with Matsui that you attend."

"If I were you I wouldn't trade in my camera for standup anytime soon," Lauren says. "I got an emergency phone call from my dad in Chicago. You can talk to Ms. Bell, Matsui's secretary if you want. She can vouch for me."

"Saved By the Bell?" Max jokes. By not reacting, Lauren is doing everything in her power to make Max as uncomfortable as she is right now. "Just don't miss another or I'll have to report you to Matsui and neither of us want that, okay?"

Lauren shrugs him off and it makes Max frown. While other boys are clueless in situations like these, Max can tell Lauren's upset with and he doesn't like it. When Max notices Henley watching them, he gives her a friendly smile.

"Hi. I'm Max. I don't think I've ever seen you around. Are you new to Taft?"

"Just observing," Henley answers.

"Henley, don't talk to him," Lauren warns. "Someone might see and assume you're flirting. Then we'll have a school-wide crisis on our hands. Trust me, he isn't worth it."

"_Laur-ren_." Max separates her name into two syllables, drawing out each in a soft voice. What he's doing is really kind of cute and him being exceptionally handsome doesn't hurt. "What happened with Kaylie sucks, but taking it out on me isn't going to change anything and it won't make you feel better. Breaking up with Maeve wasn't something I planned…"

"So you're single?" Henley asks. Lauren shoots her a look before glaring at the photographer.

"Don't tell me how to feel, Max," Lauren snaps. "And you're wrong. It doesn't suck. It's _great_."

"I know what'll cheer you up." Max excitedly rubs his hands together. "I owe you a date with my darkroom. And spring break is coming up so—"

Henley snorts. "That's a euphemism I've never heard before."

"No," Max says. "It's not a euphemism. I—"

Max doesn't get to finish his sentence when Queen Maeve marches up to him and shoves a long, thin box of colorful macarons into his arms. Maeve doesn't look like she put too much effort into how she looks today, a big departure from the norm. Despite her elegant strut, Maeve doesn't seem to be handling their breakup with much grace.

"Stop showing up at my house," Maeve says. "Stop talking to my mom. Stop giving her gifts to give to me. Stop harassing Kaylie, asking how I'm doing. Just stop, Max."

"Maeve, I meant it when I said I still wanted to be friends," Max argues. He tries to hand the box back, but she refuses. Both seem to have forgotten Lauren and Henley completely. "Come on, May. You love these things. I thought it'd cheer you up."

"I don't need cheering up, especially from you," Maeve says. "I didn't just fail a math test. My dog didn't just die. You ripped out my freaking heart. Just leave me alone." Maeve is about to walk away when she realizes Lauren is there. Maeve lets out a laugh that screams emotionally unstable. "Of course you're hanging out with _her_. Of course!"

Ignoring Maeve, Henley turns to Lauren. "Can we leave now?"

"Give me a sec," Lauren says. "I swear I left it in here somewhere…"

"Maeve," Max says gently. "Let's find somewhere else to talk."

When he goes to take her arm, Maeve frantically tears away.

"So, Lauren, it's a shame you're still not talking to Kaylie," Maeve says. "Not to be blunt, but why don't you, oh, apologize for being a slut and _maybe_ if you're lucky she'll forgive you? You can't exactly suppress your compulsion to hump everything in sight. It's in your nature. Lord knows Lee has a soft spot for you. I'm sure you'll find some way to worm back into her life."

Lauren ignores her and continues her search, violently shoving books, papers and tubes of lipgloss around. Max is silent even if he's the only one with some power to tell Maeve to back off. It turns out that Henley is the one bold enough to look straight at Maeve and with a glare.

"Lauren, are you going to let her talk to you like that?" Henley asks.

"I'm sorry, I just refuse to stoop down to her level of pathetic," Lauren replies. It's the mature thing to do. Her and Emily have been having a lot of little talks late at night, Lauren half-asleep and Emily wide awake. They agree that having self-respect is more important than having the respect of others.

Maeve cackles in a Wicked Witch of the West way (and not the awesome _Wicked_ version, but the straight up _Oz_ bitch who deserved to melt). "Sweetie, you wish you were on my level. You wish you were good enough to lick the ground on my level."

"Maeve, stop," Max tells her. "Let's—"

"How does that even make sense as an insult? Who would want to do that?" Henley shoots back. "You're a bitch and I don't like you."

Maeve laughs again. "Where'd you find this one, Tanner? An Aspergers support group or a casting call for affectively disturbed hoebag?"

Lauren slams her locker. "Say what you want about me, post it on Social Lounge, shout it from rooftops, I don't care, but _don't_ talk about my friends like that. Henley is hot _and_ smart. Don't even pretend you can't tell. Why else would you be so threatened by someone you've never met? So while we study and get into legit universities, you have fun shoving your toothbrush down your throat, prepping for your bulimic bitch casting call."

Maeve gets the wind knocked out of her. It shows how powerful the right words (or the wrong ones) can be. The biggest surprise is the way Max flinches.

"You don't even know what you're talking about," Maeve says defensively. "You don't know my life. You have everything wrong."

"I'm sorry," Lauren says mockingly. "Do you just use your finger? My bad."

Not making a sound, not even one last insult for the road, Maeve turns away, her hair fanning out like a super villain cape. Max calls out after her, telling her to wait, but she doesn't listen. When Lauren Tanner cuts you deep it's best to walk away and nurse the wound, but never admit that's what you're doing. Girl world. What a cluster fuck of head fuckery.

Henley whistles, long and slow. "Colorado Barbie's got bite."

"It comes with the Dream House." Lauren smiles to herself and continues her search through her trashed locker. "I really need to get Ike or Emily to organize this thing for me."

"You just don't know when to stop, do you?" Max asks. The two girls almost forgot he was there, a witness to an every day girl-on-girl crime.

"Don't," Lauren says. "She started it. All because we were standing next to each other?" Max doesn't say anything, just chases after Maeve. "Denial should be a seven deadly sin. I'm already expecting the Social Lounge notification, Max and Maeve, in a relationship _again_!"

Once Max walks away, Henley asks, "What was that all about?"

Lauren is pleasantly surprised when Henley doesn't insist on giving her the history of the Seven Deadly Sins, first in English and a second time in Latin.

"Why, Henley, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your Maury-esque love triangle."

The blonde cracks a smile at the reference. "_You_ watch Maury?"

"Daytime television is lacking. Ice Road Truckers doesn't do it for me and Anthony Bordain makes me uncomfortable. I've only seen maybe five minutes of _Three Babies, Three Angry Moms, Is Shawn the Father?_ And then I was done." Lauren finally finds what she's looking for so they can leave. Taft is a hell during and even after its hours of operation. "He's cute, but his attraction to bitches is disappointing."

Lauren laughs. "It isn't a love triangle. That would require me having feelings other than hatred and spite towards one of the two and that isn't true."

"Well, I'm pretty sure all of that wasn't solely for entertainment purposes. If so, that means you Colorado kids need to get out more and that's coming from _me_."

"Hen, you remember me telling you about Kaylie, right?"

"The girl I replaced?" Henley asks, fact checking, not joking around. It isn't very Henley to joke like that in the first place. It takes Henley's question to make Lauren realize that she hasn't talked to Kaylie ever since that stupid fight. Are they really at the point of drifting?

"The bitch girlfriend is Maeve, Kaylie's non-Four bestie," Lauren explains. "Apparently, me being banished from the top of the social pyramid and having my best friend turn against me isn't enough? Maeve has to accuse me of stealing her boyfriend too. It's like she makes up reasons to torture me."

"Well, he was flirting with you."

"Henley, you can recognize flirting?" Lauren adds a little hop to her step as her voice rises in exaggerated shock. A little dramatic flare in the aftermath of a crappy confrontation never hurts. "Something you picked up at CU Boulder?"

Lucky for Henley, it's the only thing she picked up unlike a number of unlucky undergrads. Lauren considers it a mission accomplished.

"I know flirting when I see it. My brother wrote the tutorial. I've seen him try and fail on numerous occasions." Something in the air shifts at the mention of Razor. "How does Ray factor into all of this?"

"No triangle means there's no reason to factor anyone into anything."

"What about Jake?"

Lauren smiles to herself at the thought of the wrestler. "Nothing's going on with Jake. We're just friends. Let's not forget Razor isn't even talking to me."

"Because of me."

"Because of everything," Lauren says. "Other than texting and talking and video chatting online, I haven't seen him since the summer. We have our own separate lives and we're living them separately. Plus, Emily doesn't think he's over his ex."

"It's funny that Emily can see that in someone else, but she can't see it in herself. She's still hung up on Damon, which is both unfortunate and understandable, but, for what it's worth, I do think Razor is over Jody, romantically speaking, but they're important parts of each other's lives. And that's forever. I never understood that, how some people, when relationships go wrong, they go on like the other doesn't exist anymore. That doesn't make sense to me."

"Change is scary. Sometimes a fresh start is just easier. Fact."

"Change is inevitable," Henley counters. "Fact."

"You are a piece of work. You're going to make some guy happily miserable one day."

"I think you make my brother happily miserable right now," Henley confesses. "Call him."

"I tried. He won't talk to me. Being a thousand miles away, I can't exactly hold a boom box over my head and ask him to love me." Lauren stops, literally stops. Is that what she wants? She wants Razor Sheppard to love her? At this point, she'd settle for him answering her calls.

Henley doesn't pick up on any of it, which isn't surprising. Her face lights up in a way that Lauren has only seen once when a surprise marathon of _Life After People_ came on. Henley digs through the purse and yanks out her phone.

"Here. I can help. He can't ignore my calls."

Lauren tries to reach for the phone, but Henley uses her long arms to keep it out of reach.

"Ray, hey," Henley says. "Yes, I'm fine, but here. Someone wants to talk to you." She shoves the phone into Lauren's hand. "I'm going to follow the signs and check out your chess team practice. Find me when you're done."

"Or maybe I'll just leave you stranded!" Lauren shouts. The blonde weighs the phone in her hand before bringing the speaker up to her ear. "Not that I'd leave your sister stranded. That's just how we talk to each other."

"Lauren Tanner, hey." His smile, a weak but genuine one, is in his voice and that alone undoes all the work Lauren put into conditioning herself not to miss him.

"Hey, Ray." Lauren leans back against her locker, fiddling with the strap of her purse. "I haven't gotten any texts from you lately."

"Yeah, I haven't been feeling very inspired lately. You know, inspirational quotes without the inspiration, it's all just words."

"So I take it you're still upset?" Lauren asks.

"Not upset, just…" Razor pauses, trying to figure out what to say, leaving Lauren anxious. "I wish you would have told me. If Emily told you she was going to the grocery store, and instead she ended up here you were the first one I would have called."

"Even if Emily begged you not to tell me?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, Ray, but I don't see things as black and white as that."

"Girl code and all that?"

"Exactly," she replies. "It wasn't about you. There were so many times I wanted to tell you…"

"It's just, I trusted you. Then out of nowhere everything just…wasn't how I thought."

"I don't know what you want me to say." Lauren starts walking down the hallway because she has to do something other than just standing there, hanging on his every breath. Her throat goes dry as she waits for Razor to say something, but he doesn't for a long time.

"Razor?"

"Guess who I went to see the other night…"

Lauren feels the tension coil deep in her gut and she hates it. "Your ex?"

"Actually, your mom," Razor says. "The Pink Flamingo. The security is nothing to brag about. You could probably buy a fake from a pot dealer down in Venice and that'd pass. Bats went with me. We're cool again. I walked up to your mom—whose eyes are exactly like yours, by the way—and I asked her why you are the way you are."

"You had no right to do that."

"I figured you'd react like this. I've been trying to think of a way to tell you, but there's a reason Damon always wrote all of our good songs and why I send you quotes, not my actual thoughts or ideas. If it makes you feel any better, she only had glowing remarks about you."

"Obviously. She doesn't know me well enough to say anything real."

"There were a few things—"

"I don't want to know." Lauren cuts him off. "What made you think that was a good idea?"

"Being drunk and sad, probably?" Razor answers. "I want to know you, Lauren. It's kind of hard being in different states and the fact that you were ignoring me. I really like you."

He sounds so innocent, like they're two kids on a playground and everything in the world is good and nothing hurts.

"Are you sure?" Lauren asks. "You aren't just ignoring your feelings for Jody by convincing yourself you like me?"

Razor laughs softly. "Lauren, if I wanted to be with Jody I would be. It's just that there's this other girl, cool and smart and beautiful, but totally out of my league. It's complicated."

"It wasn't before."

"We should be stoked then, shouldn't we? If it were simple it'd mean it has nowhere to go."

"Ray, I, um, I have to go. Henley's waiting," she lies. Razor being sweet, she's used to that and she gladly eats it up, but now it sounds like he's trying to advance the plot and Lauren isn't sure how she feels about that. "I'll call you tonight before I go to sleep."

"Sweet. We have weeks of quotes to catch up on."

Lauren smiles as she ends the call and goes to find Henley schooling some geek in a game of chess while the rest of the team stares at her chest. As she drags Henley away, Lauren decides that if Razor is willing then she is too. They just have to figure it out along the way.

…

Despite her emotions being all over the place right now, Kaylie does the sensible thing. She pulls herself together, concentrates on school and cracks the whip on the cheer squad. She just found out that her boyfriend had sex with his best friend and had to hear about it from Lauren. As much as it kills her, Kaylie ignores every one of Nicky's attempts to contact her, making him sweat it out. Let him feel what it's like to be in the dark.

"Wow, Kaylie, it's, like, you're almost, like, a real captain." Beverly, one of the blonde cheerleaders, gives her a smile so Kaylie takes it as a compliment and smiles back.

Theresa, in red cheer shorts and a black sports bra, squints at the bleachers. "Hey, Kay, your creepy boyfriend is getting his stalk."

Kaylie spots Nicky waiting for her. He must have just come from school because he's still in his uniform polyester pants, an untucked white button-down and ugly leather shoes. Even from afar, Kaylie can read how distressed he is. It may be twisted, but a part of Kaylie is happy to know she can hurt him and make him want her in the same way Kelly can and does.

"Take five, everyone!" Kaylie announces. "I'll get rid of the stalker."

The girls cheer to show their appreciation after spending an hour out on the field, trying to perfect the routine they're bringing to competition. Theresa turns to Beverly and they show off a purposefully complicated handshake that leaves them both laughing. Kaylie likes to think things run more smoothly now that Lauren is off the squad and has no plans to return.

Kaylie takes her time, walking across the football field to Nicky. She's had enough time to mull it over and script this forgiveness scene in her head. Reality seldom matches the ideal, especially Kaylie's ideal, but she doesn't know any other way to mentally prepare. Once she reaches him, they just stand there and stare.

"Who told you?" Nicky asks. "Faith was upset and told me about your little run-in fifteen minutes after it happened. I'm pretty sure she would have said something if she told you about _this_. It definitely wasn't Kelly. I don't know anyone else who knows."

"Are you kidding me?" Kaylie hisses. Her barely contained anger slips word by word through her teeth. "Everyone knew except me!"

"Did Payson know? But she wouldn't…" Nicky's expression darkens. "It was Maeve, right?"

Kaylie's eyes go wide and a breath gets caught in her throat. "Maeve knew too?"

"No, I've never actually told Max or Maeve, but I'm sure they assumed. They aren't exactly shy when it comes to remind me that hanging out with Kelly was mistake. They've been doing it even before you and I started dating." Nicky sinks down to the bleachers. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand why you're making such a big deal out of this."

Kaylie doesn't understand why he'd say something as stupid as that when he has bigger things to apologize for. Starting with why he lied to her their entire relationship.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you slept with the girl who you've been openly obsessing over for the last month!"

"I have not been obsessing—"

"And I had no idea!" Kaylie shouts.

"Why would you need to?" Nicky asks defensively. "I think it's a weird thing to care about and it'd be even weirder to randomly bring up in conversation. Kaylie, just because Kelly was my first doesn't mean it'll be any less special with you."

Kaylie purses her lips. "You…you lost your virginity to her?"

Kaylie's angry that he kept it from her for so long. She's angry that he doesn't understand. Mostly, she's angry that this feels too much like that time in Spain, where they argued in his grandparents house and she felt like she'd fallen in love with a stranger. Then and now, Kelly Parker was involved in this fucked up equation. Kaylie might not know Kelly, but that doesn't stop her from hating Kelly for interfering in her relationship without even trying.

Nicky rubs his hand down his face. "Yes. She's the only person I've ever been with."

Kaylie sinks down to sit on the bench in front of Nicky. "You told me you didn't date her."

"I didn't. Kelly doesn't date."

"But she sleeps around?" Kaylie asks venomously. Her head starts to spin, especially when Nicky glares at her like Kaylie's in the wrong. She sees how people fall for Faith's charm and weirdness, but Kaylie will never understand why people, some she loves dearly, waste their time on a psychotic She-Hulk like Kelly Parker.

"Kaylie, can we please leave Kelly out of this? This isn't about her. It's about us."

"Are you in love with her?"

"Not in the way you're asking. She's my best friend. The whole romantic, soulmates forever-and-ever love? All that stuff we grow up thinking we need and are judged if we don't get? I don't even know if that's real."

He doesn't believe in love? Blasphemy! He can't be human.

"So you aren't in love with me?" she asks.

"I care about you. _A lot_. So much that this whole thing, you having to find out from anyone other people, I feel horrible," Nicky says. Kaylie so easily slips back to anger. "I don't even know what love is. I don't know if I've ever been in it or if I even want to be."

Kaylie stares at her pink plumeria fingernails. Neither of them says anything for a while. She sighs, holding her face in her hands. "You can be such an ass sometimes, Nicky, I swear."

"You want me to tell you how I feel. Well, that's it. I'm sorry if it isn't what you want to hear. You reacting like this, it's exactly why I didn't know how to tell you in the first place."

"You can tell me anything," Kaylie insists, "especially if you think I don't want to hear it."

Nicky feels so far away that it startles her when he moves next to her and takes her hand.

"I'm sorry," Nicky says. "I didn't want you to freak out for nothing. Kelly and I, we're friends again and that's it. I'd never do anything that would hurt you. I'm hanging out with Kelly again and I'm not about to do anything that jeopardizes that friendship or our relationship. You don't have to worry, Princess."

"I'm not worried," she says. "I'm hurt."

She tries to pull her hand away, but he won't let her.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I wish hearing that made a difference, but it doesn't." Kaylie untangles their fingers and dusts the tears off her cheeks. "I need to get back to practice and you need to leave. We'll finish this later or something."

"Later or something?"

"I need more time to process everything. Just go, Nicky."

"I'll call you?"

Kaylie doesn't say anything and walks back over to her squad, that's been watching, probably trading comments the way Lauren and Emily do when they watch an episode of _The O.C_.

"Kaylie!" Nicky shouts. "What about our anniversary this weekend and your mom's party?"

She stops and turns to face him. "I don't know about you, but the last thing I want right now is to celebrate whatever this is. I don't even know anymore."

Kaylie whirls back around, ignoring the way Nicky continues to call after her and how sad he sounds. She wishes she could go home and cry to her mom and Ronnie would volunteer to cancel the party and spend the weekend with sad movies, retail therapy and her daughter. Sadly, it's just another one of her ideals that'll never be met.

…

In preparation for Ronnie's party, she hires a professional cleaning service and brings in the team of makeup and hair people who worked on _Project Runway_. Soothing music, extra bright lights, and men in suits and women in designer gowns. Ronnie stresses out up until the very last second before going into hostess mode, wearing a _Gucci_ dress, looking like she belongs on a red carpet rather than their foyer, greeting guests as they arrive.

Kaylie would rather be anywhere, but here, in a strapless pink dress with a sequin corset and pleated skirt. Her hair is ironed straight and pulled back. Her silver heels are mildly uncomfortable, but cute to the point where Kaylie would rather stare at them than be asked if she sings or models for the hundredth time tonight.

"Hey, Kaylie."

She looks up from her heels and finds Damon Young, dressed for the occasion in a dark suit jacket, crisp white oxford and a skinny tie. Despite meeting the dress code, his inclination to rebellion shows with his steadily growing facial hair, somewhere between stubble and a beard. Kaylie's a little shocked that he remembers her name, but it quickly turns to suspicion.

"How are you?" he asks.

"Do you really care?" Kaylie knows that the anger in her voice is directed at the wrong person, but it doesn't stop it from leaking through. "Just tell me the truth. If you came over here to ask about Emily then ask. You don't have to disguise it with small talk."

Damon's eyes widen, not expecting that cold of a reception.

"Wow."

Kaylie sighs. "You want to know how Emily is, don't you?"

"You caught me. I even had a neat little segue prepared, but you totally destroyed the need for it." Damon tugs on the collar of his shirt, a little uncomfortable. Kaylie can't tell if she's making him uneasy or he isn't used to dressing up like this. "How is she?"

"Miserable." Kaylie feels a surge of guilt when she replies. Honestly, she's been so wrapped up in her own life that she doesn't really know how Emily is, probably more moping around and denying her virtual pining for Damon. "You shouldn't even be asking me. You should be asking her. The girl always thinks that if the boy wants to talk to her then he'll call. Then he doesn't."

"Believe me, I've called her."

"I heard. So it has to be a guy thing, right? The way you all share this weird inability to have conversations about what actually matters? Why can't you just _talk_ about things instead of keeping secrets and driving girls crazy? If you didn't waste so much energy on keeping things from us then maybe we wouldn't be such bitches to you all the time."

His mouth hangs open as he stares at her. Damon definitely got more than small talk. Then this guy, who looks way too good in a suit and broke her best friend's heart, is bold enough to smile at her after she essentially gave him a verbal ass kicking on behalf of every girl who's ever been frustrated over a boy. The prick actually _smiles_.

"Need to get something off your chest there, Kaylie?"

A waiter walks by and Damon smoothly steals a flute of champagne, holding it out for her. Kaylie waves it off. Not only would her mom throw a fit if she saw, but Kaylie is already venting to strangers. There's no telling what would happen with alcohol in the mix. At her refusal, Damon shrugs and puts the glass back on the tray of a different passing server.

"A rock star that doesn't drink?" Kaylie asks.

"Doesn't drink, smoke, do drugs. No sex with random groupies or, to be honest, anyone lately," Damon says. There's this thrill in his voice and it sounds like pride. Kaylie wonders if he's dropping that, hoping it'll get to Emily or if he just likes to announce it in casual conversation. "I believe the cool kids would call me a straight edge."

"How uncool of you," Kaylie says jokingly. When she actually thinks about it, by Damon's definition, Kaylie would fall under the same label. "I'm sorry about going off on you like that. You didn't deserve it."

"Apology not necessary," Damon assures her. "You made your point about me personally and guys in general. On behalf of me and my jackass kind, I'm sorry."

Kaylie nods. It isn't hard to see why Emily fell for this guy in the first place.

"Appreciated, but not necessary. You aren't the jackass who should be apologizing."

"Want to talk about it?" Damon asks.

"You want to listen to me complain about my boyfriend and your jackass kind in general?"

Damon lifts a shoulder in a lazy shrug and gives her another smile that's just as lazy. "It beats mingling with execs strung-out on coke, asking why I don't do ballads or start a boy band."

He makes her smile with that, just a little.

"Hey, Kales." AJ interrupts their conversation. "Sup, Youngin." They clasp hands. "Hey, Kaylie, did I tell you Damon says he can possibly book Adrianna Tate-Duncan for the deb ball? It's the only reason I haven't kicked his ass yet."

"Wouldn't be the first time Ade saved my ass," Damon mutters. "I haven't asked her yet, but there's a good change she'd agree, especially for a cause like yours."

"_The_ Adrianna Tate-Duncan? Lauren loves her," Kaylie blurts out.

"I know," AJ says. The awkwardness passes right over the boys' heads while Kaylie feels the full impact, like getting slammed by a monster truck.

"Um, did you need something, Aje?" Kaylie asks.

"Oh, yeah. Your boyfriend's here."

"Nicky?"

"No, the other one," AJ says sarcastically. "He's waiting out front, wants to talk to you. There's nothing I'd love more than to tell him to get lost, but it's your call."

Kaylie sighs, reconsidering that champagne from earlier. "I'll be right back."

She smiles at people as she passes them, but it fades as soon as she sees Nicky right outside, wearing the outfit Kaylie bought him for tonight. The bouquet of flowers in his hand—red tulips with freshly cut green stems—look even more vivid against his neat, all black ensemble.

"I know flowers and apologies won't fix anything, but I bought them because I saw the flower shop on the drive here and I remembered tulips are your favorite," Nicky rambles. "So, um, Star Wars is my favorite movie other than every Batman movie ever made and I've seen it—Star Wars—so many times that I know all the words. Um, my first mathlete competition, it came down to the kid from the other school and me in the final and when it came my turn to answer, I threw up on stage, in front of a room full of people. I think I was twelve—"

"Nicky, why are you telling me all this?"

"You said to tell you everything, especially the things I'd rather you not know," Nicky says. "These are just a couple. Kaylie, I know I messed up, but I promise it won't happen again. If you don't want me here then I'll respect that and leave, but it doesn't mean I'll stop trying. You, our relationship, it means too much to just quit. I can't take back anything I've done or said, but I can try to be better and some day maybe even good enough for you."

With every sweet declaration, Nicky takes a step closer. He finally pauses to let it all sink in when he's standing right in front of her.

"Nicky, I appreciate you wanting to spare my feelings or whatever by not telling me, but I can take it. I want to be the first person you tell things to, the good and the bad."

Nicky twitches like something she said was wrong and Kaylie almost pulls back, afraid of how he might react. She waits, but he doesn't seem to realize he even did it.

"Does this mean you'll forgive me?" he asks.

"Is there anything else I should know about?"

"Stories I'd rather not talk about? Tons." Nicky tugs his lips to one side and his eyes look very serious. "When we were fourteen, Faith kissed me, but only because I was teasing her about getting mano and she got pissed and tried to give it to me. It ended up backfiring on her and scarring both of us. It was just _incestuous_. Just,_ gross_. We literally never talk about it. We even promised not to tell Kelly about it because _ugh_."

Kaylie laughs at the trauma on his face. "Okay, I forgive you."

"Good." Nicky smiles. "Happy Anniversary, Princess."

He's sensitive enough that he doesn't go on like nothing is wrong. He recognizes how fragile things are right now and when he pulls her into his arms, it's tentative and gentle. Nicky kisses her cheek and Kaylie doesn't know if she's making a mistake by willingly getting in line for another round of this roller coaster that somehow became their relationship. All she knows is what she sees, his sincerity, Nicky fighting for her without having to be told. It's all she wanted. It's just another hurdle and maybe now that they're over it they can be happy again.

"Happy Anniversary, babe." Kaylie kisses his clean-shaven jaw. "We still need to get through this party, but I'd say this is a good start. My mom is going to introduce us to everyone in the room." Nicky grumbles as Kaylie links her arm through his. "Be nice, Russo."

"Kaylie, I styled my hair for you," he whispers. He nuzzles the side of her face with his, making her giggle. "Like, with actual hair products."

"I can tell. You look great."

"You look beautiful."

It shouldn't be this easy to make up. It still bothers her, knowing what she knows. It still makes her sick, imagining Nicky and Kelly Parker in bed together. But it is what it is. And he's with Kaylie right now. He showed up for her, not for Kelly Parker. That means everything.

They walk into the party, holding hands, and Ronnie rushes over. The change in Kaylie's mood is thinly veiled at best if Ronnie can tell that things are good again. Despite her disinterest in her mother and brother's networking, Kaylie smile all throughout the evening.

Nicky sticks by her side for most of dinner, but then his phone buzzes and he shows her the caller ID: _Parks_. Nicky looks to Kaylie as if he's asking for permission and Kaylie kind of hates that even if he's just giving her what she asked for. When she let him go, Kaylie didn't think he'd be gone for the rest of the night.

"Damon, you don't have to stay to help clean up," Ronnie tells him at the end of the night.

"I'm happy to," Damon says. "David told me to personally apologize to you for not being able to make it in time for the party. There were some scheduling complications, but he's on the redeye tonight and he's looking forward to meeting you within the next few days."

Ronnie waves off his apology. "Oh, it's fine. I understand how things can be. I was really hoping he'd make it, though. This party was the fun part. By this time next week, we'll be neck deep in business meetings and negotiations."

Damon makes a face. "And my career just so happens to be one of the items on the bubble…"

Ronnie's smile goes dim. "They've hinted that they're eyeing up a boy band that's supposed to be the next big thing, but, hey, you are fantastic and your music speaks for itself. Don't worry yourself when we don't even know if you have anything to worry about."

"Or you can invest in dance lessons and voice synthesizer," Kaylie adds.

"Not a bad idea," Ronnie jokes, grabbing an empty tray and bringing it to the kitchen.

Kaylie knows it's a little sad to be jealous, watching this stranger interact so well with her mother. She can't remember the last time Ronnie told her she was proud of her or even implied it, but this musician emo punk gets a soft, sweet Ronnie Cruz pep talk. What is it about music that connects people on a level above everyone else?

"So, that's your boyfriend, huh?" Damon asks. "I hope he got Part II of your grievances."

Kaylie smiles sheepishly. Not so much.

"Speaking of, where did he go?" Kaylie asks, more to herself than Damon. "I meant to introduce you earlier, but my mom was showing us off. Hold on. I'll be right back."

Kaylie walks in the direction she last saw Nicky sneak off to, down the hall, towards the back of the house. She spots him through the glass windows of the sunroom, sitting out on the patio, his phone to his ear and his eyes on the sky.

"Parks, you cannot let her get to you. You should be asleep right now, not on the phone," Nicky says. "Hey, don't…don't cry. You know I hate it when you cry…yeah, I know, it isn't all about me, but that doesn't make it any less true…"

His face is one of agony as if he can literally feel Kelly's pain.

"I wish I could be there too…" Nicky laughs. "Not possible. You don't ugly cry. You…you're gorgeous even when you're blubbering and you know it…I know, cheesy. I probably stole it from Faith." Nicky laughs again. "Oh, I'm at Kaylie's, her mom had a party…don't worry about it. Just breathe. Did you? Good. Now look at the tattoo on your wrist…yeah, exactly. _Always_."

Kaylie slams the back door a little harder than she normally would and loudly clacks her heels against the pavement as she walks over to him. Her less than subtle way of making her presence known doesn't escape Nicky, who turns to face her.

"Kaylie's here." Nicky's on edge, as if caught doing something he shouldn't. "You should get some rest. Call me tomorrow. Before or after, whatever works for you…goodnight."

Nicky ends the call and though she's curious, Kaylie doesn't want to see how long that call lasted. She's sure they've been on the phone since Nicky excused himself at the tail end of dinner. She hates this. She doesn't want to share Nicky with Faith and especially not Kelly, but that doesn't look like an option anymore.

"Kaylie, uh, Kelly says hi. Okay, that's a lie. I'm sorry that ran a little long. With good reason."

"It's freezing," Kaylie says, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms. "If you're going to be out here, you should at least remember your coat."

"I hadn't noticed. A little preoccupied." Nicky lifts his hand, motioning to his phone. "I was talking to Kelly and I know you probably don't want to hear about it, but the truth is she's in Florida and the last person she would've expected to show up is her mom, but she did and—"

Before he can continue, Kaylie walks over, grabs him roughly by the scruff of his neck and covers her lips with his. Honest to God, she's sick of hearing him talk about Kelly Parker.

"Kaylie." Nicky breathes sharply once their lips break apart.

"You're a good friend. I find it really, really sweet," Kaylie says. Her voice is flat. No emotion whatsoever. Shaking it off and sounding marginally happier, Kaylie whispers, "Happy Anniversary, baby."

Nicky stares at her, bewildered, but Kaylie ignores it and kisses him again. Instead of trying to explain himself, Nicky takes the out she gives him and kisses her just as passionately in return. It must be another guy thing. Even when he knows wires are crossed he just goes with it. Kaylie takes Nicky by the hand and leads him back to the house, saying she wants to introduce him to Damon Young, her new guy friend.

…

Family problems are a definite Get Out of Jail Free Card with almost everyone, including Lauren, and Emily takes advantage of it. How else would she convince Lauren to let Rodge into her house?

"Rodge, you aren't paying attention." Emily drums the end of her pen against the open textbook in front of her. "Three basic components of an atom are…?"

"This place looks so different during the daytime."

"Rodge!"

"Proton, neutron, electron."

Emily doesn't try to hide her frustration.

"Where are Lauren's parents?"

"Her dad is in Chicago and her mom's in LA." Emily flips a page to passively aggressively remind him that they aren't here to socialize. "An element is determined by its number of…?"

"Protons," Rodge says. "So they let her, you and your stepsister just live here like this, unsupervised and for free? We should throw a party once break starts. The clientele is antsy. Party favors to taper down the anxiety. Tell Tanner. We'll cut her in if there's a problem."

All of a sudden, Henley walks in like she's been living here for years. With her hair down and in loose curls, Henley tosses the book Faith lent to Emily onto their pile of textbooks.

"Finished it," Henley announces.

Emily squints her eyes, trying to detect bullshit. "I gave it to you two days ago."

"There was nothing good was on TV."

Rodge spins the book to face him, forgetting about chemistry entirely. "_Their Eyes Were Watching God_. I like the title. I also like how the cover art has her eyes closed."

"It's taken directly from the book," Henley says. "_They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God."_

"Without spoiling it, did you like it?" Emily wants to know.

"I'm not terribly keen on poetry, per se, but I am a musician. The prose had a poetic element to it and the rhythm, to the point where I could almost hear it in my head. Then, in high contrast, you have the dialogue, using the vernacular language. Very stop and go, which you don't see, oh, ever anymore. There was a lot of racial commentary, which is to be expected and touched on independence, which I appreciated. I found it interesting that the female main character only managed to find herself after being mistreated by men. Four out of five stars."

"Thank you, Good Reads." Emily stares at the cover of the book, even more curious than before. Too bad she doesn't have much free time to devote to reading. She's dealing with her own mistreatment from the men in her life.

"Were you told you were smart when you were kids?" Rodge asks. He has his face in his hand, looking up at Henley like a curious child.

Henley doesn't even think before she answers. "Yes."

Rodge shakes his head. "Shame."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Henley demands. "I happen to be proud of being smart."

"Pride is for the blind. And so is music, but that's another issue entirely. It all keeps you from _seeing_," Rodge says, making Emily think of the eye carved into the library table. "When parents tell their kids, _oh, you're so smart_, _A+ on your spelling test_, kids get attached to that label and start evaluating everything they do based on looking smart. Forget learning from mistakes. They're too scared to make mistakes in the first place. Total gut punch to the ol' self-esteem. Smart becomes an insecurity."

Henley deadpans. "You weren't hugged enough as a baby, were you?"

Emily nudges Henley's calf with the knuckles of her toes. "_Henley_."

"What? I probably wasn't either." Henley tries to toss strands of her long hair over her shoulder, but her fingers get caught. The awkward fumbling doesn't stop her from glaring at Rodge. "By the way, _who are you_?"

He grins and leans up in his seat, holding his hand out to her. "Rodge."

Henley stares at his outreached hand with no intent to shake it.

Emily sighs. "Hen, we're trying to study."

"Okay, I just wanted to give you your book back," she says. "And to ask what's with the weird bookmark? If that's your passive aggressive way of suggesting I have a thought disorder, I assure you, Colorado, I'm not schizophrenic or suicidal. Nor does it run in my family."

Henley reaches for the book and flips back the flimsy front cover. She pulls out a scrap of paper. The writing is a little messy as if it had been scrawled on in a hurry. It reads:

**Schizophrenia **

- Onset: late teens/early 20's

- 1 in 100

- Genetic component

- 10-15% of people w/ Schizophrenia take their lives w/ the first 10 years of diagnosis

Emily sees how hard the tip of the pen pressed into the paper, tracing "schizophrenia" over and over and over. Maybe Faith was doing research? For some reason, Emily feels like she shouldn't dig, but briefly considers asking Payson about it, maybe warning her if necessary.

"I have no idea what this is for," Emily says. "It isn't my book."

"Want to hear my theory on mental disorders?" Rodge asks. "It's a nice rant on how society is trying to control the creatives and put us all in neat little boxes of social norms."

Henley doesn't say anything, just gives Rodge a weird look before she walks out and doesn't even announce her exit. Emily tucks the slip of paper back where Henley found it.

"She's intriguing," Rodge says. "Does she have a boyfriend?"

"_Rodge_."

"Not to imply that I'd even consider starting a relationship with her since I don't believe in relationships and she's a music person."

"Rodge!" Emily slams her palms against the forgotten textbook in front of her and finally draws his attention. "Now, back to Chemistry and not the kind of chemistry that involves anything, but particles attracting."

"This stuff is boring." Rodge leans back far in his chair, teetering on the back legs, a slip away from falling. "I know the basics. I just need help with the stuff that involves equations and calculations, less memorization. Memorization is the system's way of controlling us."

"I don't care about the system, Rodge. Can we focus? I had to beg Mr. Heisenberg to let you make up all your quizzes that you have incompletes on because, oh, you didn't even bother to show up to class, probably getting high somewhere instead. So, yes, I'm going to make sure you know even the basic crap because even he thinks I'm wasting my time with you."

"And my failure is a threat to your smartness?"

Emily's shoulders drop and her long arms go limp. "It isn't about looking smart. I don't want to be disappointed." Rodge can't look at her, moving his eyes to the ceiling. "Look, I won't deny that it's an ego boost when someone calls me smart, but that isn't why I work so hard. Not _all_ of why I work so hard, at least. I take school seriously because it's our way out, Rodge, and seeing you so careless scares me. I want to see you get out of Laguna just as much as Ike or me. You don't want to be a high school drug dealer forever, do you?"

Rodge doesn't immediately reply. It becomes so quiet between them that they can hear Henley watching TV in the next room.

"I want to live on a beach somewhere," Rodge says. "Far, far from Colorado."

Emily smiles, finally seeing the fight in his eyes. "You don't strike me as the type who wears shorts or ever takes off his beanie."

"I could be. And I guess you're right. A high school diploma would be a start." He stares down at the open textbook, reluctant, but willing to break through. "Okay, let's do this."

Emily finally feels like she's getting through to him. She can't convince him to give up his little high school drug dealer operation, but she can get him to do his homework. As they go over key concepts, Emily's phone buzzes against the glass table. She looks at the caller ID and sees it's Davy. She wouldn't mind talking to him, just to check in or maybe talk about Henley, but she doesn't want to break Rodge's burst of momentum and so she ignores it.

They get through almost the entire chapter when the front door swings open. Heels click against the floor.

"Honey, I'm home!" Lauren shouts.

"Darling, I hope you brought dinner!" Rodge calls back.

Emily shuts the book. With Lauren home, they obviously won't get any more studying done, which is fine. She's content with today's accomplishments. At least he tried to sit still and get his work done. It's a lot more than his last two years of high school.

"What does this look like? A soup kitchen?" Lauren walks in and sets her bag down on the chair next to Emily, briefly staring at Rodge as he shoves his books into his ratty backpack.

"Sorry," Emily says. "I know I told you he'd be gone by the time you got back, but the study sesh ran a little long. He was just leaving."

"And that's my cue." Rodge slings the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. On the front pocket is an eye drawn on in Sharpie. The more she sees it and associates it with Rodge, the more Emily suspects he's in some sort of gang, cult or anarchist group.

"So, what's with the eyes?" Emily asks.

Rodge smiles, halfway out of the room. "It's all about the difference between looking and seeing." He takes another few steps and without turning back to them, Rodge lifts a hand up above his head as if to say goodbye.

"If you stole anything, _anything_, I'll know!" Lauren shouts at his retreating back. Rodge just laughs in this evil genius way that's dramatic to the point of being humorous.

"Lo, you can hold off on installing security cameras. Rodge is alright/" Emily has her phone in her hand, looking over the scratched screen. "That's weird. Davy called me a million times."

"Do you think Razor told him about Henley?"

"I guess we'll find out. Is Razor still not talking to you?"

"We are, well, sorta. It's complicated. I don't even know."

Emily isn't sure if she wants to hear about it and chooses the lesser of two messes, taking her phone into the next room. As if phone calls don't already make her nervous, Emily and Davy don't talk often and so she always goes back and forth between calling him by his name and calling him dad. Despite the closure they got over the summer, it doesn't change the fact that while she was growing up, he merely ghosted in and out of her life. She doesn't hold it against him anymore, but without that foundation, it's hard to maintain.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's Emily," she says. "You called?"

"Where have you been?" Davy growls. The anger in his voice comes as a surprise. He almost sounds like an actual parent. "Emily, I called your mother and some guy answered! He told me you ran away, that you haven't been living there for weeks now!" Davy is obviously trying to control himself, but sucks at it. "Where are you? Have you been going to school?"

"I'm fine," Emily says. "I've been staying with my friend, Lauren. You met her over the summer. And, yes, I've been going to school even if I haven't been living with mom. And that guy you were talking to is her jerk, alcoholic junkie boyfriend."

Davy sighs, in relief or distress, Emily sucks at differentiating. "So you're okay?"

"I'm not living on the streets," Emily says. "_Okay_ is a stretch."

"Text me Lauren's address and I'll be right there."

"Wait, you're in Boulder?"

"Denver, actually, so it'll take a while for me to get there. I'm in town on business and I wanted to surprise you. Turns out, the surprise is on me. Hang tight, kid. I'll be there soon."

Emily debates whether to mention it or not and ends up blurting out, "Davy, do you know about Henley?"

Emily doesn't know if he pauses so long because he's confused as to why she'd bring up Henley or because she called him _Davy_.

"What about Henley?"

Shutting her eyes tight, Emily answers, "She's been here, living with Lauren and me ever since she left California for Montana."

Silence again. Emily paces around Lauren's parlor, assuring herself that it was the right thing to do, mentioning it now. It's better that he knows and expects it rather than walking in to Lauren's house and finding Henley on the couch, fixated on an episode of _Battles BC_.

"It seems we have _a lot_ to talk about. I'll be right there."

As expected, Henley freaks out about Davy being in Colorado. Emily stands by her decision to tell him and reminds Henley that she has to deal with consequences sooner or later. The stepsisters pace imaginary lines into the floor as Lauren sits on the couch, flipping through channels on the flatscreen. Lauren stops on MTV (_Teen Mom_, no less) and Henley is too distracted by her anxiety to comment on their generation and subliminal messaging.

When the doorbell rings, Henley tries to run for the stairs, forcing Emily to chase her down and hold her back. As they struggle and argue, Lauren goes to answer the door and puts on a bright smile for Davy. He looks so tired, which in turn makes him look older. Davy lost the glow of a man about to marry the love of his life. The honeymoon is clearly over.

"Davy! I mean, dad," Emily says softly. "I can explain. I—"

Before she can go on, Davy steps through the door and hugs both Emily and Henley at the same time. The girls both tense, but that doesn't stop Davy. Once the reality of the situation hits, that he's here _for her_ and actually gives a damn about what's going on, Emily melts into the embrace and lets go of Henley, turning to hug her father.

"I'm glad you're okay, kid." His voice comes out as a whisper. "I nearly had a heart attack."

"Don't," Emily says. "I'm not ready to lose you yet."

Davy laughs as he pulls away, finally giving in to Henley's attempts to squirm away. "That goes for you too, Henley."

"And this is my cue to go wait in the kitchen." Lauren shuts off the TV and gives Davy a sweet smile. "You can have the living room for your family meeting. It's nice seeing you again, sir."

Davy nods to her. "You too, Lauren."

On her way to the kitchen, Lauren runs her hand across Emily's back and even touches Henley's shoulder to show her support. Once she's gone, they arrange themselves around the living room with Emily and Henley sitting together and Davy across, facing them.

"Which of you ladies would like to go first? And don't think either of you can get out of this one. I cleared my schedule for the rest of the evening. There's no escaping this."

Emily starts with the beginning of the summer when Bruce started coming around again and works her way up to the event that chased her out of her home. She starts with concrete facts, but then her emotions get the best of her and she wonders aloud about how Chloe could be so deeply invested in such toxic love that kills everything around it.

"Why didn't you ever tell me any of this was going on?" Davy asks.

"Honestly, it didn't cross my mind to tell you." Honesty is all she can offer him at the moment. "I'm still getting used to the idea of you being in my life. Plus, Ray says you've been busy lately. I wouldn't want to unload all of this on you when you already have so much going on."

"Feel free to run to me anytime. I mean it," Davy says. "Don't think we're just going to forget any of this happened. We're going to confront your mother. Together. Even if it's just so you can grab some things to bring back, we're going to your house."

Though she promised herself she wouldn't go back, that she isn't ready, Emily nods in response. It'll be different this time. This time she has her dad.

"It's not exactly a house per se," Henley says. "It's more of a dank, unsanitary 1860's tenement _prior_ to the Tenement House Act of 1879 putting comprehensive legislation on housing conditions." Though her expression doesn't show any regret in her assessment, Henley is socialized enough to automatically add, "No offense, Colorado."

Emily drops her hands into her lap. "We've lived together long enough that I don't take offense from anything you say, Henley."

"A valuable trait to have." Davy smiles as he rubs his smooth palms together. "Your turn, Henley. Why aren't you in Billings and why have your mother and I gone so long without knowing this? Does Ray know?"

"Purely because Lauren couldn't keep it in her mouth." Henley raises her voice considerably, glancing in the direction of the kitchen.

"I didn't tell him anything!" Lauren shouts back. "That was all on you, Posh Spice!"

Though she isn't proud of it, Emily almost gave in to Lauren's suggestion that they get Henley drunk again (even though Henley is dead set on it being a onetime thing after the horrible hangover) in hopes that the multi-personality Spice Girls might return for an encore. Henley calmly explains missing her flight, taking an expensive cab ride to Laguna and how her anxiety over seeing her dad pushed her to do it.

"It just felt like the right thing to do." Henley has such confidence in everything she does, and an overpowering stubbornness. "I told mom that I wasn't ready. It isn't that I'm afraid…"

"I'm not mad," Davy assures her. "You're right. Maybe you weren't ready and your mother was pushing you into it. I'm surprised your dad didn't call your mom to ask questions."

"I called him on my way to Boulder and told him I stayed home, couldn't go through with it," Henley explains. "He said he understood. You know how things are between them. It doesn't surprise me they haven't talked about it."

"I may not be mad that you didn't go through with visiting your father," Davy continues, "but I am upset you didn't tell us. You and I, _all three of us_ know your mom isn't going to take this well. And when I talk to her tonight I'm going to tell her that you're here, safe, and that I'm sending you home. You, my dear, have the honor of doing the explaining yourself."

Henley groans, reluctant. "Fair."

"And there's a pretty good chance you're going to get grounded for a _long time_ after this one."

"Fair," Henley says again. "Oh, whatever will I do without my bustling social life?"

Emily snickers. "I think taking away her History Channel would be a worse punishment."

"Emily!" Henley shouts.

Davy's tight-lipped smile turns into a toothy grin. "Not a horrible idea."

"So, is it your turn to explain what you're doing here?" Emily asks.

"I'm here on business. The Denver office is a little bit of a mess right now so Henley's grandfather sent me out here to get everything straightened out with the label. You do know that Damon is in Denver, right?" Both Emily and Henley nod. "We have a lot going on in LA, everyone who's hot right now is taking top priority and the unexpected hiatus sidelined Damon's album. Last I checked, he isn't even done with it and he's having a hard time getting support from our people. No one wants to back him if he's going to pull another stunt."

"Stunt?" Emily asks. "Unexpected hiatus? What are those euphemisms for?"

Blatantly ignoring her questions, Davy asks, "You haven't heard from him?"

"We talked once," Emily says. "There wasn't much to discuss. I told him to leave me alone."

Davy frowns like a fan finding out his favorite television couple broke up. To Emily, sometimes her relationship felt like something out of a teen soap opera. It was all so surreal; a summer fling that tried to evolve into more, but failed to bridge the distance.

"Believe me, he had his reasons," Davy says, "but that's something for Damon to explain to you when he's ready, not me or anyone else." The tender way Davy speaks implies that it's something big and Emily isn't sure she wants to find out. She wants to know, yes, but she's afraid of getting hurt because of it. "Okay. What do you say I take you girls out to dinner? Lauren too. You can show me the cool place to eat in this town."

"I'll tell her to get ready," Henley volunteers. As she walks to the kitchen, Henley mutters, "Sure, if it doesn't take Lauren a million years to touch up her face. By the time she's done, everything will be closed."

"Like you're one to talk!" Lauren shouts back.

"So, how long are you going to be in Colorado?" Emily asks Davy.

"As long as it takes to get everything in order. And as long as you need me, kid."

Though she knows she'll feel weird about it as soon as she says it, Emily can't stop the words from leaving her lips. "I'm glad you're here, dad."

Davy gives her a big smile and his eyes glaze over. "Me too, Em."

...

Payson has no idea how she ended up out to dinner with Flex Jordan post-competition. Kim is to her right, gabbing with Mrs. Jordan, sitting across the table with her son. Ms. Jordan is an older, lively woman who can talk for hours with little pauses. She's very thin with pale white skin and fiery red hair, looking so tiny next to her African American Hulk of a son. Payson's favorite thing about Ms. Jordan is that she keeps Flex in check. She tries not to giggle every time Ms. Jordan calls him Darrell and not "Flex."

Flex is different with his mother around. He still wears his diamond earring, but he's dressed in pants that actually fit him. He smiles at his mother like she put the stars in the sky. Payson spends the entire dinner, trying to decide if this is the real Flex and he puts on an act for the world or if he's acting in front of his mother.

"We should be proud of our babies, Kim," Ms. Jordan insists. She raises her glass and Kim does the same. "Our two all-around American Cup winners. Next, the Olympics."

"I'll drink to that," Kim says, taking a sip of her wine.

"I'm glad you could make it out here to see me compete, mamma. That's why I didn't win in Rio. I didn't have my good luck charm in the stands." Flex was a nobody up until he pulled out a near-perfect high bar routine in Rio and catapulted to the top of the leader board, only to be beat out by two-tenths of a point, leaving Flex with silver and crowning Conrad champion.

"Stop it, Darrell." Ms. Jordan gently slaps the back of his hand. "You know the ticket was more than we could afforded back then. And what do I keep telling you? You won too. Silver is nothing to be ashamed of. I tell you, Kim, these gymnastics, they're too hard on themselves."

"I know exactly what you mean." Kim smiles and nudges her daughter.

"I don't get to see this one often, let alone see him compete," Ms. Jordan explains. "I got him when he was only three years old, sweet and shy, then sending him off to train in Colorado with Marty when he was only fifteen. This is the first time I've seen him since…"

"Christmas, couple years back." Flex squeezes her hand. "But at least you're a pro at e-mail and Skype from how often you get on just so you can bust my ass from Michigan."

"I'm not _that_ old, son. I text too." Patting Flex's cheek, Ms. Jordan then turns to their dinner guests. "Kim, Payson, I'd like to personally apologize on behalf of this knucklehead. Sheila can be abrasive and sometimes downright rude. I don't want you having a bad impression of my son. The reason he didn't fly with you here from Denver is because at the last minute he decided to surprise me and stop over in Detroit so we could fly here together."

"It's no problem," Kim assures them. "This whole manager situation is new to us too."

"Have you talked to your manager yet?" Flex asks Payson.

"Not yet," she replies. "I've been solely focused on my gymnastics and trying not to deal with the press or endorsements or any of that until after the actual competition."

"Smart girl," Ms. Jordan coos. "Darrell, you can learn a lot from this young lady."

"I intend to, mamma," Flex says. "My manager thinks you'd be a good influence on me." Flex sits up, evidentially excited about what he has planned. "You and me, all-around champs, repin' the U.S. right. Sheila tells me that All-Around Mag wants to do a full spread on us. Now, I'm sure you heard nasty things 'bout me, especially over the cover with Cooper, but this time, I told 'em I don't want to do it if you aren't there, standing with."

His sincerity here isn't quite the same as it is when he addresses his mom. Payson doesn't trust it. "Why would you do that?"

"Foreal. Payson, you and me, we like the one-two punch," Flex says. He buzzes in his seat, rocking his shoulders from side to side with his hands up in fists. "Winners gotta stick together."

"It's no secret that the media likes to exploit and harass my son," Ms. Jordan says. "Sometimes, if I didn't know any better, I'd think he enjoys it. Sheila gets a dozen calls a day, girls claiming that Darrell is the father of their babies or saying that he disrespects women and hates white people."

"It all started when I got into a fight with this white boy, not something I'm proud of," Flex confesses. "It was at a junior meet in Denver and some preppy punk was tryin' a feel up my host-family's daughter, who was like a little sister to me. I pushed the kid around, scared him a little, and now that Flex Jordan is becoming a household name, the kid did an interview with some paper, saying I got anger issues and preach black supremacy or something."

"And because I'm female and white, you think being seen with me is going to fix your image?"

Flex gives her his most charming smile, the exact one he uses on the media. "And you put in a good word or two when the interviewer asks about me."

"I don't make it a point to lie to the public," Payson says, forgetting that they're sitting with their mothers for a second. Kim kicks her under the table, but Payson means it.

"Dang. You are friends with Kelly Parker, aren't ya?" Flex winks. "Listen, Payson, I know I'm not Kelly's favorite person and your boyfriend isn't myfavorite person, but they don't know me and neither do you and I think if you did, you'd wanna do this. I'm not that bad a guy."

Payson misses a lot of what he just said, stuck on the part where Flex referred to Austin as her _boyfriend_ in front of her mother.

"Flex, do you think I could talk to you in private for a second?" Payson asks politely.

He smirks at her before looking to their moms for permission. Ms. Jordan insists they do and orders coffee for herself and Kim while they busy themselves with small talk. Flex offers Payson his arm, but she just walks off, heading over to the hallway, far from their mothers.

"Fuck," Flex curses. "Did I out you and Tucker to your momma? I wasn't tryin'a be a dick."

"Can we please not talk about Austin?" Payson asks desperately.

"Why? Your family don't approve? Can't say I'm surprised. It isn't a coincidence Tucker rhymes with loser. I bet your mom can tell," Flex says jokingly. Payson doesn't find it one bit funny. "Okay, let's get down to it. I'm willing to do you a favor if you do me one. You know what I want. What do you want, Payson?"

"Was any of that real?" Payson asks. "Everything you tell your mom. Because you in front of your mom is dramatically different to when you're threatening my friends on Kelly's lawn."

"Payson, you've met my momma. I'd have to be a heartless fucker to disappoint that woman and not give a shit, especially after everything she scarified for a jackass like me. Who I am around her, that's me. You of all people should know the game by now. Your best friend is Kelly Parker, gymnastics' resident bitch. You're dating Mr. Kobalt, who's arguably worse than Flex. I know you wouldn't put up with either of 'em and their shit if they were their image. I just do what I do to be who the people expect me to be. That's the biz."

Mulling over his little speech, Payson is quiet for a long time, playing with the hem of her champagne and floral dress. "Anything I want?"

"Ball's in yo court. Lay it on me."

"No more partying with Kelly," Payson says sternly. "No more bringing your friends to her house or inviting her out to go drinking with you. If she tries to contact you, you turn her down. She's really trying to change and you aren't much of a help."

"Boring," Flex says. "That's it? I give you a genie wish and you waste it on Pity Party Parker?"

"Yes. And I mean it, Darrell. I can call up the magazine and get them to print a retraction if you mess with her again. I like to think the word of the Gymnastics Sweetheart holds more weight than Flex Jordan, the cockiest guy in the country."

"I don't know how you do it in Boulder, but where I come from, we keep our word. Parker's your homie and you got her back. Flex respects that." He gives her a nod before holding up his iPhone so Payson can watch as he deletes Kelly's number (filed under "Fine Ass Half-Asian Bitch #1"). "Shit. I barely got any brain cells left. You know I didn't memorize her digits."

"I bet you also get her mixed up with Fine Ass Half-Asian Bitch #2 through 4," Payson says, making Flex laugh. The blonde almost catches herself smile and when she does, Payson shifts away. "Have your manager call mine. I'm sure they can work out the details."

"Coo. Let's go tell the gym moms the good news."

Flex offers her his arm again, but Payson still won't take it. This doesn't mean she trusts Flex even if seeing him with his mom did unveil a side to him that she didn't know existed. This is exactly what she tells her mom on their way back to their hotel. Kim is weary of this partnership, but does genuinely like Ms. Jordan. Payson feels the same.

"So, who's this _boyfriend_ Darrell mentioned?"

Despite the weird feeling she gets at her mother's question, Payson kind of likes how they're both calling him Darrell instead of Flex now.

"He was just teasing," Payson says.

"Is there any truth to the teasing?" Kim pushes. "Austin or Conrad?" Payson laughs at the fact that her mom would even consider Connie. "You know, Pay, I could always just ask Kelly or Faith. I'm sure they'd be more than willing to catch me up on the gossip."

"Hey, Keeler!" Austin shouts as soon as they walk through the front doors of their hotel. Nice timing as always. "Good evening, Mrs. Keeler."

"Hi, Austin," Kim sings. Her smile says she knows even when she doesn't really know anything. Damn that mother's intuition thing Kim is always boasting about perfecting.

"I'm happy to report that KP was fine all throughout dinner, quiet, kept to herself, but we ate with the Ukrainian kids so it wasn't awkward or anything. Then she went straight back up to your room and I didn't try to stop her. Probably Skyping with Faith and what's-his-name."

"Nicky," Payson says. "I should probably go check on her."

"I think I'm going to call it a night. We have an early morning. Call me if you or Kelly need anything." Kim kisses Payson's cheek and squeezes Austin's bicep before heading to the elevators. "Goodnight, Pay. Night, Austin."

"Goodnight, mom."

"Goodnight, Mrs. Keeler."

After the elevator doors slide shut, Payson turns to Austin and asks, "Shouldn't you have a Kobalt girl in a wet t-shirt on each arm right now?"

"Sorry to disappoint, but Mr. Kobalt is on a break. You're stuck with just me, boring, crazy about you, Austin Tucker." He laughs. "So how was your date with Flex?"

"Interesting. I'm starting to get a hang of this gymnastics as a business thing." Payson goes over sit on a nearby bench and Austin follows. "So you can't even say Nicky's name yet?"

"I can censor enough not to call him Jerk-Off in front of your mom. And forget it. If Kelly and Conrad are over it then I'm obviously getting worked up for no reason. Connie's my boy, you know? I want to see him happy. And, yeah, sometimes I get into it with Kelly, but that one isn't my fault. She reminds me too much of my kid sister to not get the big brother treatment. Still, it'd just be nice if you were on my side for once."

Payson gives him a crinkly-eyed smile that never fails to cheer him up. "Well, for that to happen it would have to mean you're right for once."

"Hey, watch it." Austin playfully bumps into her with his shoulder. "I failed to place top three _again_. I'm in a fragile state right now, Payson."

"Fragile state?" She almost laughs. "I saw you doing cannonballs in the pool earlier today!"

"No." Austin shakes his head resolutely. "That was Mr. Kobalt. There's a difference."

"Yeah, there's no way you're getting away with that excuse."

Austin smiles at her and Payson smiles back, but then she spots Sasha and when he spots them he awkwardly turns away and pretends he didn't. Honestly, Sasha should be upset. The first time he called her out on it, he was upset, thinking Austin was toying with her. If it were Marty, he'd march across the lobby and drag her away from Austin, but Sasha just ignores it as if he wishes he hadn't found out in the first place. It's nothing less than awkward. Austin grins in this taunting way, like he might just kiss her in public, but then his phone rings.

"Your life partner calling?" Payson asks lightheartedly.

"Honest to God, the love of my life," Austin jokes. Just at the photo of Conrad that appears on his screen, Austin turns into a little child, excited about going to Disneyland for the first time. "Con Man! Tell me you and Faith didn't break more shit in my house. I knew I should have called in a service to baby proof the place before I left."

"Have fun. I have to go check on Kelly," Payson says. Austin waves and mouths "call you." Payson waves before she makes her way to the elevators.

Payson doesn't know what to expect when she goes upstairs to their room. Kelly wanted to go into the competition with a clear head and even broke down the wall between Nicky and her. Right when things started looking up, she came to Jacksonville just to run straight into another wall in the form of a downright scary woman named Sheila Buboyan.

The previous night was hard to stomach. It brought Payson back to the summer in Texas, nights full of tears and suppressed whimpers where nothing goes right for Kelly Parker. The one difference is that she has Nicky now. Payson knows Kelly spent hours on the phone with him, locked in the bathroom, her cries amplified with the acoustics. Payson knows Faith stayed on the phone with Kelly throughout the night. It's a team effort. FKN at its finest.

In the morning, by the time Payson woke up, Kelly was in her zone, listening to her loud, nonsensical electric music that she uses before every meet. Just like with everything else, when she's ready, Kelly will tell Payson what's going on and so Payson waits.

It doesn't surprise anyone when Payson is nearly flawless from rotation to rotation in spite of the way she struggled over the summer. She's the gymnast to beat. She sets every standard on every event. She didn't do her best on beam, especially with the new elements she just recently added. For Payson, when she's performing, it's always been less about beating the other girls and more about her love for the sport.

Going into a competition mentally and emotionally exhausted does nothing for Kelly, but she battles through it, something Kelly lacked in Rio even if she managed to clinch bronze. The gymnast known for her consistency nearly slips on uneven bars, but manages to save the routine. Kelly isn't happy, places fourth, and spends the rest of the day hiding in their room.

"Dad, you aren't listening to me!" Kelly shouts. Right as Payson starts to back out of the room, Kelly waves her inside. "She shows up here and totally messed with my head and it showed in my gymnastics! Dad, a twelve-year-old Chinese girl, probably on growth hormones with a fake birth certificate beasted me! What do you mean _what do you want me to do about it_! Ugh!"

Kelly ends the call without so much as a goodbye. Without commenting, Payson walks over and pries Kelly's fingers off her BlackBerry before Kelly breaks it and runs up Payson's phone bill with her all-night, silent phone calls with Faith and/or Nicky.

"Does this mean you're ready to talk?" Payson asks. "What's going on, Kelly?"

Kelly throws herself onto her bed and stares hard at the ceiling. At least she isn't crying anymore. That's a good thing. "My dad is an emotionally stunted egomaniac and my mom is a psychotic bitch. That's what's going on, Payson. It's been going on my whole freaking life."

Payson is starting to see why Kelly never talks about her parents.

"Remember when I told you to tell Sheila Buboyan to screw herself if she tried to sign you?"

"Not those exact words, but yeah."

"She would have screwed you over eventually. Believe me, I have firsthand experience," Kelly says. "I didn't even have a choice. One minute she's just a crazy gym mom and the next she's also my manager and making all these decisions about my career."

"She's your mom? Really? You don't look anything alike."

"Thank God." Kelly takes a deep breath, fills her lungs and slowly lets it go. "My parents got divorced when I was thirteen. All they ever did was fight. He was obsessed with work—and his hot intern—and she was obsessed with my career. I lived with her at first and it was okay. Half-mom, half manager, she was strict and demanding, but I somehow convinced myself she only did it because she wanted to see me succeed, but really, it was never about me. It was always, _always_ about her."

"So the house you live in now…?"

"My dad's," Kelly replies. "At Nationals, when you stole my title, Sheila went from breathing down my neck, expecting perfection to ignoring me completely, making her other clientele higher priority. Higher priority than me, _her friggin' daughter_, but I wouldn't beg for her attention. I started running away, staying at Nick's. Then my sponsors started dropping their commitments and when my contract was up she dropped me as a client."

"No," Payson mutters.

Kelly nods. How can someone be so cruel, especially to her own daughter?

Kelly grinds her teeth. "She had this total freak out when she caught Nick and me…" Her voice trails off and Payson doesn't even try to imagine where she was going with that. "She blamed him for Nationals, which couldn't be farther from the truth. You were incredible. A fluke, I'm sure." Kelly turns to give Payson one of her sarcastic looks that would make Payson smile under different circumstances. "Then she sent me to live with my dad and disappeared."

Kelly hugs a pillow tight to her chest, trying to hide the way her body's shaking.

"And you haven't seen her since?" Payson asks.

"She calls sometimes, but I never answer. I didn't even see her when she was in Boulder, apparently courting you or bitching at Conrad and signing Flex."

"That's messed up."

Kelly laughs again. "Don't feel bad for me or whatever. Things are better now. I'd rather be alone than still be her blindly devoted cash cow."

Payson slowly moves up the bed and lies parallel to Kelly. They aren't the type of friends that show affection in a physical way. If Faith were here she'd probably be in tears, arms and legs wrapped tight around Kelly. Instead, Payson hopes that her presence is a comfort alone and something about hearing Kelly take slow, easy breaths tells her that the feeling is mutual.

"So what did she do that set you off so badly?" Payson asks.

"Oh, you're going to love this one." Kelly rolls onto her side and feels her way through a pile of papers on the nightstand, pushing aside extra room keys and paperwork until she finds what she's looking for. Kelly holds out a little white envelope and Payson takes it, peeking inside.

_You are cordially invited to celebrate _

_The wedding of_

_Sheila Buboyan _

_And _

_Enrico Prado _

_On Saturday, May 28, 2011_

_At Four o'clock in the afternoon_

_The St. Regis Aspen Resort, Aspen, CO_

_Complimentary transportation for all our guests _

_R.S.V.P _

_970-920-3333_

"She's getting married?"

"Disgusting, right!" Kelly shouts. "There needs to be a legal cut-off age. She had the nerve to _invite me_! _Hey, daughter who I disowned, life is so much better without you and your father. Here, come see. My rich, twice divorced boyfriend_—whose name is _Enrico, _I'll point out—_paid for your ticket and everything!_ And she used the nice-bitch voice _she taught me_. Ugh!"

Kelly drags a pillow towards her and presses her face into it, but doesn't scream. She stays in the same position so long that Payson considers pulling the pillow away, fearing suffocation.

Payson purses her lips. "So he can pay for the plane ticket and lodging for all his guests, but he can't spring for wedding invitations that don't look like they're from the 99-cent store?"

Kelly laughs and readjusts herself. "Payson Keeler, that was particularly bitchy of you."

"I know." Payson slides the invitation back into the envelope and tosses it onto the table between their beds. "I think you're rubbing off on me."

"I approve."

"So do you think you'll go?" Payson asks carefully.

"Ew, no. I'd rather rip off my eyelids and stick my head in an anthill. As pissed as I am about all of this, I'm even more pissed about my performance out there. This was my one opportunity to show her that I'm better off without her and I couldn't even do that right."

"You improved from Worlds. It's just, so have I and the other girls. Just keep channeling it into your gymnastics…without breaking your neck." Payson smiles. Oh, how far they've come from Texas. "It's all about the long-term. Next year's an Olympic year. When you make the Olympic team and we're in London, she'll have to watch. Then you'll get the last laugh."

"Promise?" Kelly sounds so childlike, Payson almost forgets whom she's talking to.

Instead of making a verbal commitment, Payson sits up on her elbow and curls all her fingers in except her pinky. Kelly's smile widens even if it's only a marginal amount, recognizing the gesture for what it is. Kelly rolls her eyes as she links her pinky with Payson's.

With everything she's learned today, Payson understands Kelly a little better. With that kind of family dysfunction it's no wonder why Kelly is so slow to warm and has such deeply embedded trust issues. Kelly's been burned so many times, all undeserving, and it makes sense why she took it so hard when Nicky started dating Kaylie. He was just another person in Kelly's life who found something better and left her behind. It makes Payson appreciate Kim even more.

They lounge around their shared room, just talking about the day. When Payson's phone buzzes with a call from Austin, Kelly loudly scoffs, but quickly shuts up when her phone goes off and Payson can see the picture of Nicky and Kelly light up the screen. Payson answers hers and turns onto her side while Kelly takes her call to the balcony.

Payson closes her eyes and expects Austin to say goodnight or tell her that he's going out with some of his international buddies, but instead she's met with him freaking out. This time it isn't out of anger, but sheer panic.

"Austin, calm down," Payson says gently. "Now, what the heck are you talking about?"

"My parents _and _my sister! They're in Boulder."

…

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>Was it cruel to end the chapter there when we don't know when we'll be updating next? Sorry, guys. It was a fun one, right?

Truthfully, the only reason we really updated is to announce that you can **download** a PDF of _Life, Love & Denim_! 520 pages. A little over 300,000 words. This site deleted it and we were bitter for a long time, but the diehards and people who have read WeFaB without reading LLD convinced us to put it up. The link to our LJ is on our profile. You can find the Faith backstory piece there too. Just let us know if you download it in a review or comment on LJ and enjoy!

**Review.**

#WeFaB #It'sAlive! #LLDFOREVER


	16. No Side of Paradise

**Warning:** Savor this update. There's no telling when the next one will be.

* * *

><p>…<p>

**We Fall Between**

…

Davy doesn't even have to ask for directions or make use of the GPS as he drives to the Meadows. His visits were always few and far between throughout Emily's childhood, but they've lived in that same deteriorating neighborhood and that same tiny, dank apartment her whole life. Driving there must be like driving straight back through his past.

Emily sits in the seat next to him with her long legs curled up in front of her, exaggerating the rips in the faded denim at her knees. She watches as they drive down the dirty streets. Bums gather on the sidewalk, fishing through overflowing trashcans and torn garbage bags that spilled out onto the ground. The longer she stays with Lauren the easier it is to forget how bad Laguna is and the more crushing it is when she inevitably has to go back.

Needing a distraction, Emily turns to face her dad. "How did you meet my mom?" Emily asks. "I don't think she's ever told me before."

It crosses Emily's mind that it might be too painful for Chloe. Emily focused so much of her time and energy into disliking Davy for so long that she never took the time to consider how Chloe really felt about him. She always assumed her mom hated him. After all, he left her. Now that she's gotten to know Davy and what a great guy he can be, Emily doesn't know.

"Your mother was a bartender at this total dive of a bar on the CU campus. They'd have an open mic night every Thirsty Thursday. I was young, stupid, thinking it was a steppingstone to fame and fortune. Your mom was a badass. She'd draw in the poor, collegiate suckers, get them drunk and overcharge them for horrible, watered down liquor." Davy laughs. "The first thing she ever said to me: _Stop with the Bon Jovi covers and shave once in a while, will ya?_"

Emily smiles. That definitely sounds like the Chloe she knows or at least the Chloe she wants to remember.

"Then I wrote her a song based off that moment."

Emily wraps her arms around her knees. "You, musicians, just use your vocal talent to get your way any chance you can, don't you?"

Davy laughs. "Believe me, we all can't get everything we want, _especially_ musicians. Music is important to me. It's love. Music can bring people together, for sure, but it can't keep people together. I haven't quite figured that one out yet."

Emily's smile suddenly turns sad. "Henley told me that things aren't too great at home. She seems really upset about it and you know how she is normally, plus the added stress. Maybe it's good that she got away for a bit." Davy sighs. "Honeymoon over?"

"I don't really know what happened. We lived together long before the wedding. I don't know how a ceremony and a big, extravagant party can change how good things were. Work and stress has a lot to do with it, but it'd be a copout to say my work schedule is all that's wrong."

"And me visiting," Emily says. "And the whole Henley prescription drug thing…"

"Listen, having you around, seeing how well you got along with the kids, it was easily one of the best things about that summer," Davy reassures her. "As for Henley, you made the right choice. How is she really? How has she been sleeping? Do you know?"

"I check on her at night," Emily confesses. Her own insomnia may factor into why she crawls out of bed every other hour to see if Henley is watching infomercials. "She's actually sleeping now, unlike when she first got here."

"Lydia has brought up sending Henley to a special facility. I'll bet she'll push for it even more after this," Davy explains. "I keep telling her Henley needs a support system. She can't do it alone. No doubt Razor isn't going to react well. Lydia's just scared and lashing out. If I had a dime for every time she reminded me I'm not Henley's father."

Emily frowns and sinks lower. There was always an air of contempt and an outer layer of superficiality that made Lydia hard for Emily to like, but she never had a doubt about whether or not she loved Davy. Anyone with eyes could see Lydia was crazy about him and Davy was just as crazy about her. The love is there. It's just all the other things that get in the way.

"You shouldn't be here," Emily says. "She's scared so she lashes out at someone who she knows loves her. She needs you more than ever and you love her so you should be there. Lashing out is how she tells you she's scared and staying is how you show you care."

Emily sees the behavior all the time, mostly in Lauren and Kaylie.

Davy hums softly. "You know, the same can be said about your mother."

Angling her knees towards the door, Emily stares out the window. This was shaping up to be a great moment for them, groundbreaking even, and now she finds herself extremely annoyed.

"It's different…"

"How so?"

"Because you and Lydia are adults. At least, supposedly." Though she isn't looking at him, Davy makes a sound and Emily imagines him smiling. "I'm sixteen. I don't know anyone my age who has to worry about bills being paid on time so the power and water won't go out and sacrifices every paycheck to pay those bills…or has trouble falling asleep because of the psycho her mom lets in her bed."

"And your mom knows how uncomfortable he makes you?"

"She knows. She just doesn't care."

"Don't say that," Davy says. "I remember when your mom first told me she was pregnant with you. I'm pretty sure _I_ had more of a breakdown than she did. Your mom knew right off the bat that she was keeping you and raising you with or without me. She loved you long before the start. That's the Chloe Kmetko I'll always respect. The person you're talking about…"

"She's not that person you knew," Emily says. "She thinks Bruce loves her just because it's what he tells her like words mean anything."

"You don't think he loves her?"

"I think if she stands up to him, he'll leave again, which is like, her biggest fear, so she won't." Emily doesn't mean it as a jab at Davy even if it kind of is since he did the same thing. "I don't think I believe in love."

"Don't say that," Davy scolds her. "You're too young to be thinking like that."

"Sometimes I don't think I've been young for a long time."

Davy doesn't say anything as he pulls up in front of the Meadows apartment complex. A group of thugs are hanging out in front of the building, gathered in a cloud of smoke, and Davy stays close as they walk to the entrance. At least Davy's rental car isn't anything special. If it were his BMW back in Newport, he'd be lucky if it was still there twenty minutes into the visit.

On the way up, Davy reminds her to stay calm. He's going to do his best to mediate. Emily doesn't want him to be neutral. She wants him to be on her side. She wants a parent who'll back her up, but doesn't express it. She just agrees before leading him down the stretch of hallway and knocking on the front door.

"Just a sec!" Chloe shouts from inside the apartment. The front door is just as paper-thin as the walls. They could probably have a clear conversation standing on opposite sides of it. The door swings open and Chloe's painted face drops. "Davy…"

He smiles. "Chloe, hi."

"I'm here too," Emily says. Davy knocks the back of his hand into her elbow, a gesture telling her to be nice. Emily combs her bangs away from her eyes. "Hi, mom."

"Hey, Em, it's good to see you. Here, why don't you two come in?" Chloe says. This whole thing is cringe worthy. They aren't supposed to be like this. They aren't supposed to be the type of family who has to waste time on generic greetings. Emily has always known they were financially worse off than everyone else, but she found comfort in the fact that their family was so close. Now, that isn't even true.

Walking into the apartment is strange. Things are tidier than usual, but for the most part, everything is still the same. Emily feels her stomach turn when she sees Bruce in his usual chair in the living room. She makes sure to sit as far from him as possible. Her eyes then move to Brian in his wheelchair to Bruce's left. It's way too easy to reference _Animal Farm_.

"Bruce, Brian, look who's here!" Chloe says, trying to use enthusiasm to cover how this is so awkward. "Guys, this is Emily's father. Davy, these are my guys, Brian, and his daddy, Bruce."

"It's nice to meet you," Davy says politely. He holds his hand out for a shake and Bruce, gnawing on a toothpick, just eyes the expensive Rolex on Davy's wrist. Davy waves to Brian, who stares fixedly at him, and goes to sit next to Emily.

"I don't feel comfortable talking with Bruce here," Emily says.

"Tough shit!" Brian shouts at her.

Chloe gasps. "Brian, you watch your language!"

"He's apart of this family too," Brian argues.

"Emily, Brian's right," Chloe says. "Whether you like it or not, Bruce is involved in this too."

Emily turns to Davy and her brows pull back as if to say, _see, I told you this would happen!_ Davy nods, but gives her a look in return, asking her to at least try.

"Okay," Davy says, like he's hosting a talk show on trashy, dysfunctional families where DNA tests are involved. "I've gotten Emily's side of the story. Let's hear yours, Chloe."

"Who do you think you are?" Bruce spits. "You, Mr. Big Shot, walkin' in here with your expensive clothes, telling Chloe to explain herself when she don't have shit to explain. Your kid's the one who mouths off all the time. She deserved more than a smack in the face. A good thrashing would shut her up, put her in her place."

Davy looks to Emily with shock. "She hit you? Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't a big," Emily says quietly. Defending Chloe is automatic. She got angry and she slapped Emily. It's understandable, but it sure as hell isn't okay.

"Davy," Chloe calls out to him. "It was late and in the heat of the moment—"

"Emily, pack a bag, grab whatever you need," Davy says. They briefly mentioned this action plan as a last resort in the worst-case scenario. "Go. Now."

Chloe is alarmed by the sudden change in Davy's demeanor. "What happened to talking things through?" she asks.

"Forget talking, Chloe! You hit our daughter!"

"Don't you fucking raise your voice at her in my house!" Bruce yells. He stands up from his recliner. With the way he keeps eyeing Davy, Bruce is clearly territorial.

"This isn't your house!" Emily shouts.

"Why don't you get gone, already, huh?" Bruce shouts. "Things were a lot better without you, little shit starter, starting shit all the time."

Davy stands up, edging himself in the path between Bruce and his daughter. "Emily, go. The sooner you grab your things the sooner we can get out of here. This obviously isn't a safe environment for you to be in. You're better off at Lauren's."

"Why?" Brian asks. "Because we don't dress up in expensive clothes like you and the Tanners? And we don't have flatscreens or maids? That makes it an unsafe environment?"

"No, because your mother _hit_ your sister," Davy says. He starts to lose his cool, especially when Brian, someone so young, doesn't even flinch. "Because your father just called your sister a _shit starter_. From what Emily's told me, you're a bright kid, Brian. Don't tell yourself any of this is normal because you know it isn't."

"Don't talk to my boy," Bruce growls. He walks up to Davy and Emily darts down the hallway, throwing whatever she can into a bag. Now more than ever she's convinced this place is toxic. Before she walks out the door, Emily pauses a moment and grabs a framed picture of her, Brian and Chloe on the bedside table.

"Why you even care, man?" Bruce demands.

"Because she's my daughter!"

"Stop it!" Chloe screams, wedging herself between Davy and Bruce. "Emily is _my_ daughter! Where were you when she had the chicken pox? Were you the one who stayed up, reading to her when she couldn't sleep? What about driving her to gymnastics practice and every meet, sacrificing whatever it took to pay for lessons? Did you stay up with her and watch sad movies when a rockstar broke her heart? No, Davy, that was all me! You were never here for her!"

"I'm here for her now and that's more than I can say for you," Davy says. He doesn't seem angry, just sad. "What happen to you, Chloe? How did you let it all get this bad?"

Chloe turns away, offended, maybe a little ashamed. "We can't all marry some billionaire's bimbo daughter and live off of someone else's success now, can we?"

Davy backs away and sees Emily. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, dad. Let's go."

"Davy, she's my daughter! You can't just take her!"

"No one's saying she isn't your daughter, but you know just as well as I do that this isn't the place for her right now. I know it can be hard to remember with how mature she is, but Emily's sixteen. She's a kid! And you're her parent! Get it together, Chloe, or the next time we talk it'll be about emancipation."

Chloe literally gasps and Emily doesn't blame her, she's just as shocked. In unison, mother and daughter ask, "Emancipation?"

Davy nods. "I don't know what the Colorado Emancipation Law dictates, but we can Google it. If anyone can support herself financially and finish school, it's Emily, but only as a last resort. Things need to change, Chloe. I know you've never been a fan of change, but you're killing your family the way things are."

"I'm tired of sitting here, listening to your bullshit," Bruce says. "Get gone! Both of you!"

Davy starts towards the door with his hand on Emily's shoulder. She casts a look at Brian, but he won't return it. He just stares at his hands in his lap. Fixing the strap of her bag over her shoulder, Emily goes with Davy, but stops when she hears the familiar, comforting sound of Chloe's stilettos following them.

"Emily…" She turns back to face her mother and her expression softens. "I don't want things to be like this. You gotta know that, Em."

"We can't always get what we want, mom."

And then they're gone.

…

_I wish I could twist my gangly body just right and crawl through the screen of my phone to kiss you right now. – Razor _

"Long distance relationships are bullshit. Are you serious, Lo?"

Usually Lauren would be amused, but her head is too busy agreeing with him. She saw how things turned out with Emily and Damon, but when she mentions this, Razor just smiles and says he'll never get a record deal so they're good. Lauren has always been a trailblazer when it comes to guys and relationships so this step-by-step thing is new and scary.

"You know who Scott Disick is, right?" Lauren asks.

"You're changing the subject."

"Scott. Kourtney Kardashian's Scott of _The_ Kardashians. That's who you remind me off."

"He dresses like the Mad Hatter."

AJ disagrees and makes a sound to make sure she knows it. He's overdressed as usual, looking like he's waiting for his GQ shoot, sporting a tailored topcoat and sulfur-dyed cargos.

"You can't do that," AJ complains. "You spring it on me that you might be in a long distance relationship with Emily's stepbrother and now you want to talk about the Kardashians?"

"I bet Shauna watches the Kardashians, doesn't she?"

He hesitates, finally making sense of the breadcrumb hints she dropped for him. AJ makes another sound, deep in his throat, reluctant understanding. "Only when there's nothing good on Food Network or TLC then yeah. Amelia and I are heading back next Sunday night."

Lauren suppresses a wince. That's sooner than she thought.

"I'm so jel. You'll be closer to Ray than me." Lauren goes on like she doesn't realize how deeply this bothers him, but she does. Confronting _why_ he's so bothered head-on is a different conversation entirely, one they're hardly ready for. "Like you have any right to lecture me about long distance relationships. Aren't you and Shauna pretty much doing that?"

"We aren't together-together."

"But neither of you are together-together with other people."

"It's different. We've got a kid and responsibilities and bills." By the way he can barely get the words out, it's obvious how overwhelmed AJ is. "You, on the other hand, you're still a kid. You should be enjoying what's in front of you, what you can touch." AJ lays his hand over hers. "You can't do that through a keyboard."

She doesn't pull away like she knows she should. Lauren lets the moment linger, but only for another second before she moves her hand away and pushes her fingers through her hair. She stares across the park to where Henley has Amelia in one of the baby park swings. Amelia giggles while Henley smiles and coos, showing more genuine emotion now than in the time she's been in Boulder. (Aside from the time she got drunk, of course.)

Henley carries on a conversation with Amelia in a high-pitch voice, but as if the near one-year-old is a miniature adult. During the car ride, the California native explained to them that it's scientifically shown that babies prefer high-pitched voices. The way Henley clicks with Amelia comes as a surprise. The only reason Lauren dragged Henley along was to cockblock awkward moments with AJ and despite being the top in her class, Henley can't even do that right.

"So," Lauren says, "our little rendezvous wouldn't be complete without you asking me for a favor. What is it this time? I'm already officially registered for the Boulder Junior League."

"You act like you aren't excited to have a reason to play fairytale princess, buy an expensive ass dress and shit. I'm gonna be gone for a while, spend some time with Shauna and Amelia in Palm Springs and I'm leaving a hell of a lot of AGF responsibility on Faith."

"Faith Giancana?"

"I figured you knew her. Faith is apart of the AGF team. The deb ball is practically her project. I'm handling all the big things like networking, funding, the sponsors and budget, but I have Faith taking care of catering and decorations and putting together the itinerary. It's a lot for one person. I was wondering if you'd want to do a little community service?"

Lauren laughs. "Community service?"

"Yeah, over spring break or whatever."

"Even worse!" Lauren squeals. "And with Faith Giancana?"

"C'mon. It'll look great on college apps or so I'm told. I'll be happy to write you an awesome recommendation letter if you ever need it," AJ hints, more like dangles reward in front of her face. "I already asked Kaylie, but she said spring break is the last push before her cheer competition thing and then she told me you quit the squad."

"That doesn't mean I stopped having a life."

"It'll be fun," he says cheerily. "Faith makes things interesting. You can even ask Emily to help. I bet she's involved in so many clubs and extra currics there won't be enough lines on the college apps, but another won't hurt. It could be a fun thing to do with Em over break…plus Faith."

"I'll check my schedule and get back to you," Lauren says sweetly. AJ nods, doesn't push any more than that. "You're really invested in this Amelia Grace Foundation thing, aren't you?"

"It's my life now."

When he gets that look on his face, like he might try to touch her again, Lauren frantically stirs, gathering her things. "Anyways, we should probably go."

"Ah, you gotta get Henley back in your homework sweatshop I keep hearing about?"

Lauren eyes him suspiciously. "You and Kaylie really do the girl talk thing a lot, don't you?"

"I might have been eavesdropping on her and Maeve."

Lauren still bristles at any mention of Maeve Benson. That bitch.

"I did, when Henley first started staying at my house, but then I realized that _when_ I get into university I want it to be because _I_ wanted it and worked for it and earned it. Emily and Henley have been helping me out and having them over has forced me to improve my study habits." She gives AJ a specific smile. "Apparently, it's a real thing where slacker rich kids decide to stop wasting their lives and make something of themselves."

AJ smiles at her. "All rumors."

Once she has all of her things shoved into her purse, Lauren shouts, "Henley, let's go!"

The brunette hoists Amelia safely into her arms. The child is absolutely smitten, giggling at Henley. You'd imagine Henley, being the robot she is, to find miniature humans foreign and want nothing to do with Amelia, but Henley has been obsessed since Lauren introduced them.

"I think I'm going to change your name in my phonebook to Robot Poppins," Lauren teases.

"I love babies! They're fascinating!" Henley gushes. "Did you know infants, even just a few hours old, literally dance to the sound of their parents' voices? Their parents, who they heard while in the womb, moreso than the voices of strangers they've never heard before. They _feel_ language. And if a baby doesn't dance it's one of the earliest signs of autism."

"No, I didn't know that." AJ smiles politely. "But thank you?"

"Oh, and crying, other than a form of communication, has actual, evolutionary survival value," Henley continues. "Especially African tribes who live in the jungle. Difficult babies who cry and seek attention more have a greater chance of survival than easy babies who might quietly wander into the jungle while caretakers tend to the difficult babies and be eaten by a predator."

"Thank God we don't live in the jungle," AJ replies.

"Okay, great!" Lauren says with disinterest. "Now give the baby back so we can go. I promised your stepdad I'd have you back before five."

Lauren wouldn't do something _crazy_ like try to take Amelia from Henley because that would mean Lauren would actually have to hold a baby and all that keeps coming to her is that episode of _Friends_ where Ross imagines a whole future from him and Rachel while Rachel can't even hold Charlie the way people instinctively hold children. Lauren can sympathize. She has no clue how to handle a child either.

AJ tells Henley it was nice to meet her and waves Amelia's tiny wrist in a goodbye. Lauren wishes them a safe flight and AJ pulls her into a loose one-arm hug before they go their separate ways.

"Long distance relationships aren't worth it, Lo!"

"Don't be a hypocrite, AJ!" she calls from over her shoulder. He's smirking at her like he's always smirking at her and Lauren doesn't even realize the way she's grinning even when they're out of sight.

"Sooo," Henley says, "Jake the wrestler. Max the pretty boy. AJ the successful single father. And my brother. Wow, you are a bigger slut than I realized."

There are a couple others, Noah Puckerman for example, but after Henley already rattled off that length list, no way is Lauren going to mention the former pool boy.

"I haven't even kissed Max and I don't plan to. AJ and I are way, _way_ on the backburner. Jake and I haven't done more than talk in over a year. And your brother isn't here."

"Talk to me about this 'way, way on the backburner' classification with AJ." Henley stares at her as if Lauren is a subject best observed with the naturalistic approach.

Lauren mulls over the request as she unlocks her car. "He has a daughter and a complicated relationship with Amelia's mother. I'm still in high school, considering dating your brother long distance and dealing with stupid drama that almost always involves Kaylie, AJ's sister. We've talked about it and agreed that we aren't in the right place to be anything, but, I don't know, with AJ there's always _something _there."

"Nu-uh. I cannot approve of you dating my brother when you're already thinking about jumping to AJ at some point."

"One, I don't need your approval." Lauren starts the car and with it, Henley's classical music that's been playing ever since that first car ride out of Laguna. Lauren immediately turns it all the way down just for Henley to turn it back up, but not at an eardrum-splitting volume. "Two, what am I supposed to do? Wait for AJ?"

"Do you love Ray?"

The question takes her by surprise, but if she's being honest, it's something Lauren thinks about a lot. "I could. I don't know how to figure that out without literally being together, which we can't do through a computer screen. I don't know if I can do long distance without screwing it up and hurting him, which is the last thing I'd want."

"Especially with Jake the wrestler around and Max the pretty boy, who also happens to be single and wants you in his dark room," Henley reminds her. "Jesus, I know way too much about your love life."

"I don't know." Lauren nervously taps her fingers on the steering wheel. "I've gotten really good at being single. Maybe I should just keep doing what I'm doing for a while."

"But Razor's waiting for an answer. He's a serial monogamous. It's shocking that he's been able to hold out this long without being in a relationship."

"Because he's waiting for me," Lauren concludes.

"But you're waiting for AJ," Henley says. "I'm glad I don't have your messed up life."

She's so blunt that Lauren has to laugh. "Thanks, Hen. You may not have my messed up life, but I'd say hanging out with me has turned you into quite the social butterfly."

"Don't call me that." Henley deadpans. "On a serious note, I'm glad I came here. Social butterfly might be an overstatement and a dated one, but I did enjoy myself. A lot, actually."

It isn't just simply about having fun. Lauren kept an eye on Henley, _cared_ for another human being even without getting anything out of it. In turn, Henley strayed from her comfort zone and got a little taste of the other side of the teenage experience spectrum.

"One more thing," Henley says. "I know I'm the last person who should be giving you advice on your love life, but I'm inclined to suggest you forget all of them and hook up with Max."

"Henley!" Lauren scolds her. "Great! Just ignore how that would break Razor's heart."

"And? AJ was right. Razor isn't here. And Max is _so_ good-looking and _so_ into you!"

"Shallow, Sheppard." Lauren clicks her tongue. She's going to miss moments like this. "I have no idea how you're going to survive without me," Lauren says, even though she's fairly sure Henley can hold her own just fine. Their little showdown with Maeve proved it.

"I'll survive, especially with all the fashionable souvenirs I'm bringing home."

"Courtesy of my great taste…and daddy's credit card." Lauren gives her a sideways glance and sees Henley with her eyes closed, feeling the music. Though she won't ever tell Henley, Lauren thinks she'll keep it on this classical music station for at least a little while longer.

…

What idiot agrees to hang out with her boyfriend and his other girlfriends without backup? Apparently idiot is interchangeable with Kaylie Cruz. At least, that's what Kaylie thinks, feeling like a nervous wreck as she searches for her make up bag. Kaylie turns over couch cushions and looks under the celebrity gossip magazines on the coffee table. Through the large windows, Kaylie notices Maeve's car in the driveway.

Kaylie doesn't remember making plans with Maeve. On the contrary, she said couldn't hang out because she'll be with Nicky (and Faith and Kelly) tonight. Even stranger, she doesn't _hear_ Maeve, whose voice usually carries quite well through the castle. Instead, Kaylie hears AJ doing his high-pitch baby talk thing and Amelia giggling from the kitchen.

"AJ, you wouldn't happen to know why Maeve is here, would you?"

"Nope. Isn't that your job? She's your friend."

"Good answer," Kaylie says. Honestly, she doesn't know if she could take another one of her friends trying to hook up with her brother. "Do you know where she is?"

"Try downstairs."

"I was afraid of that." She isn't happy about the conclusion her head jumps to, but when Amelia giggles and holds her arms out to her Aunt Kaylie, it's a good enough distraction. Kaylie swoops in, stealing her from AJ, kissing the top of her head. "Cute earrings."

"Early birthday present from Ronnie. $300 earrings." AJ strategically places his hands over Amelia's ears. "And Ronnie got her a $4,000 lock bracelet thing from Tiffany's. 18k gold. Diamonds. Tiffany logo engraved. Ronnie says Melia will 'grow into it.'"

"Shauna's gonna want to return it."

"Shauna's gonna want to wear it." AJ laughs. "Hey, you'll be okay, right? Here, alone with Ronnie, while we're in Palm Springs?"

"Totally. Amelia should spend her first birthday with her mommy."

"Yeah, I think so too," he agrees. "Thank God Ronnie's all wrapped up in her record company drama. She'd probably bring the circus to town or some shit. We'll do an early birthday dinner tomorrow night before we leave for the airport and then a low-key party the neighbors and Shauna's coworkers."

"I've seen pictures of Shauna with her coworkers," Kaylie says, smiling at the mental image. "I'm warning you now, AJ. That's way too much cleavage for a first birthday party."

AJ laughs. "You know me and Shawnee. That's how we do."

As much as Kaylie is going to miss having AJ and Amelia around, it's oddly comforting, knowing Shauna will be there to keep AJ in line and AJ and Amelia will be there so Shauna won't be alone. It's still a bit surreal that a major fuck up like AJ somehow created this beautiful little family out of a moment that most would consider a mistake.

Kaylie plays with Amelia a bit longer so AJ can finish his sandwich before going to look for Maeve. There is only one reason Maeve would even think to go down to the basement that doubles as a recording studio. She had to have run into a certain emo musician and followed him down there like Alice following the White Rabbit down the rabbit hole.

With so much going on at the label, Damon's album dropped in priority. Many producers are reluctant to bet on him. If Ronnie didn't hold such a high position in the company and didn't personally believe in Damon, they probably would have dropped him from the label entirely. Now Damon is working in their personal basement studio, where he can concentrate on his project without the label environment to distract him. Damon has been over almost every day for the past week. Thank God Alex demanded it be soundproof when they built the house.

Kaylie walks downstairs and sees the door wide open. She peeks in and sees Damon at the soundboard, Maeve in a seat next to him. He's fiddling with his laptop while she's angled towards him, evidentially talking his ear off.

"Maeve!" Kaylie shouts. "What are you doing here?"

Maeve turns to the door and playfully glares. "Sorry, Lee, you and your perfect, dysfunctional relationship aren't allowed in here. Our Broken Hearts Anonymous meeting is in session."

"Then I should definitely pull up a chair," Kaylie murmurs.

"Damon, can you please convince Kaylie to drop her three-timing boyfriend and join our club?"

"Sure." Kaylie scowls. "When you and Max get back together, where does that leave me?"

"Still happier than you are now," Maeve says. "Seriously, if things are good with Nicky then you should be happy, not _this_." Maeve motions from Kaylie's unstyled hair to her bare feet. "It should be all about you and Nicky. Not Max and me and definitely _not_ Nicky's harem."

Damon can't stop himself from laughing aloud. "Harem? Nicky? The guy I met at the party?"

"Don't listen to Maeve," Kaylie says. With a big, shameless smile, Maeve scoots to one side of her swivel chair and Kaylie squeezes in next to her. "Nicky's best friends just so happen to be two really hot girls."

"Speculation," Maeve says. "I'm half-convinced one has a bigger dick than Nicky."

"Maeve!" Kaylie smacks her, but the senior hugs her tight. Much like everything else she says, Maeve will never take it back because she really does believe it. "Why are you even here?"

"Damon and I are having girl time."

He laughs. "I actually went upstairs to grab a drink and she followed me down here."

"But he appreciates all my dark, negative energy," Maeve adds.

"It does make for good writing material and Maeve is my target demographic, basically," Damon explains. "We've been throwing some things around."

"Inspired by his latest breakup and mine," Maeve says.

"A song inspired by Max?" Kaylie laughs. "What do you have so far?"

"We haven't written anything down," Maeve says, "but I'd imagine it to go a little something like, _gay, gay, gay, I can't believe I dated a gay…named Max_."

Kaylie laughs. She's glad Maeve is no longer crying in bathrooms and can actually joke about it now. There's still the sadness in her eyes, but when it comes to broken hearts, that never really goes away. It fades, but only if you're lucky.

"Wow. I think we have a chart topper on our hands," Damon says sarcastically, but smiles. He has the kind of smile that effortlessly draws the girls in and gets them clicking the purchase button on iTunes within seconds of seeing him on the album artwork. Maeve responds instantly, playfully pushing Damon's shoulder. Kaylie doesn't like the touching _at all_.

"Damon," Maeve drawls, clearly controlled by the gears turning in her head. When Maeve sets up her pieces, ready to play a game, it's never a good thing. "What would you say about a relationship where, oh, the guy puts his _harem_ above his girlfriend, especially _the_ harlot, who he finally, publically admitted to screwing on a trampoline pretty regularly?"

Because he isn't stupid, Damon knows what Maeve is talking about. Because he's a boy, he isn't very subtle and looks right at Kaylie with his ice blue eyes. Kaylie squirms uncomfortably in her seat, upset that Maeve would even think to pull this right now and in front of Damon.

"I think…I shouldn't have an opinion on things that aren't any of my business." Damon turns his attention back to his laptop, avoiding a bullet. Kaylie smiles a little and appreciates that he doesn't ask or look at her differently like everyone else does.

"No fun." Maeve pouts, moving their seat from side to side, her bony shoulder knocking into Kaylie. "Fine, but you personally, you have friends who are girls, right?"

"Sure."

"And not now, obviously, but when you were with Emily or whoever, is it really so hard to differentiate between girl friend and _girlfriend_?"

"I can't speak for anyone else, but how can you not?" Damon gets a sort of far away look on his face. "Jody, my friend who also happens to be a girl, and even Ade, they're the ones I write and play music with and ask for fashion advice before a date. Emily, she's the one I want to write _about_ and play _for._ She's the one I want to go out with, walking on the beach, holding hands. Isn't the difference obvious?"

"Not to some." Maeve turns to Kaylie. "Kaylie, whose hand does Nicky want to hold?"

"Why are you even here, May?" Kaylie asks, feeling her Cruz temper starting to get the best of her. It so easily gets the best of her, but such is the Cruz way. "Oh, you know, other than to call me out on all the flaws of my relationship?"

Damon turns in his chair, focusing on his laptop again. Smart boy. Maeve, on the other hand, slowly shakes her head like she's disappointed. It only makes Kaylie angrier.

"Kaylie, I'm your friend," Maeve says. "Where are Lauren or Emily or the gymnast?" She looks around the room for dramatic effect. "Not here. _I_ am here for you. I'm _always_ here for you and I'm telling you right now that you don't have to put yourself through tonight." She tilts her head to Damon. "Kaylie has a date with Nicky and his harem."

"Would you stop calling them that?" Kaylie snaps. "Emily is busy with her dad in town and family drama and work, which I get. Payson is busy, handling press stuff after her American Cup win, which I understand too. Lauren…I don't know or care. Tonight, I'm hanging out with my boyfriend and his best friends. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

"Because it's creepy! And you know what's going to happen tonight. Nicky is going to push you to the side while he hangs out with his girls and at the end of the night you'll feel like crap and when—_if_—you call him out on it, he'll do his deer-in-headlights Nicky thing. All I'm saying is you don't need to put up with that. Tons of _Royal_ guys would treat you like a goddess. Damon, doesn't Kaylie deserve to be treated like a goddess?"

"Every girl does, yes." Damon is terribly uncomfortable and trying hard not to show it.

Kaylie frowns, leaning over to him. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this."

"Truthfully, I don't mind." There he goes again. Damon shows off his fucking sexy smile without even realizing he's doing it. "Eavesdropping is a powerful weapon for a writer. You two are practically writing this album for me."

"We'll just go and let you work." Kaylie stands and starts to pull on Maeve's near skeletal arm.

"Why don't we go get lunch?" Maeve suggests. "That was my original reason for coming over. Other than trying to talk you out of literally walking into a lioness den. All three of us could go get pretentious mozzarella and tomato salads at some pretentious café. I think both of you could use the time away from the castle."

Kaylie turns to Damon, full of sympathy. "You really don't have to."

"Actually, that is a great idea," Damon says. "If I manage to scrape up any inspiration at all, I doubt I'll find it down here. Plus, disagreeing with Maeve doesn't feel like a smart idea."

"Smart, talented and handsome. I have no clue what Emily Kmetko did to snag you, but I have way more respect for her now." Maeve means it as a compliment, but the look exchanged between Damon and Kaylie says they're both unclear if it really was or not. Maeve takes Kaylie's wrist and leads her to the door. "Kaylie's going to get ready and we'll go!"

Once they reach Kaylie's room, Maeve flops back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. She stretches out and her cut-off shirt rises, her rib cage stretching her smooth skin. Kaylie doesn't notice (or doesn't want to) and continues her search for her make up bag. Maeve finds it within seconds—right on the bedside table, behind a stack of textbooks.

"So, Damon's cute, isn't he?"

"Don't even think about it, Maeve. He's hung up on Emily and you just broke up with Max."

"Max just broke up with me, actually. I had no choice in the breaking."

Kaylie stops what she's doing and sees how the sadness intensifies when Maeve is no longer putting on an act for Damon. Kaylie carefully crawls onto her bed and stares right at Maeve, who bravely returns her gaze. Maeve doesn't try to hide behind a smile and her grandiose, fast-talking nature, not in front of Kaylie.

"He keeps coming over to my house with all my favorite things, wanting to be friends again." Maeve rolls her eyes at the idea alone. "My dad is going to put out a hit on him pretty soon."

"Max is an idiot." Kaylie may not know his side of the break up, but she _saw_ Maeve's side firsthand and Kaylie doesn't know how else to describe him. "I can't believe that after everything, the_ years_ you've been together, he'd just throw it all away like that."

"Maybe that's the problem, Lee. Maybe we waited too long. Maybe if we ended it sooner we could've had a chance at still being friends, but, no, because we were Max and Maeve, Taft's cutest couple, we stayed together for all the wrong reasons and now we aren't even talking."

"No." Kaylie simply refuses to believe that. "Everything you said, that you were in love and meant to be together. Till hell freezes over! What happened to all that?"

"I did love him, but even I'll admit, towards the end, things weren't how they were before. It became routine, like we were actors and every new day was the same scene. Maybe some people are meant to be in the moment or for a while, but not meant to be forever."

Kaylie wants to believe that even less. She turns onto her side and curls up next to Maeve. She takes a moment to reflect on her own relationship. Would things have been better if they ended it when the summer ended? Either way, it feels like they left their hearts in Barcelona.

"I might be projecting a little," Maeve confesses.

"_A little_?" Kaylie laughs, just so Maeve will know that she isn't angry. Maeve can do the most appalling things and yet Kaylie cannot stay mad at her. It isn't just Maeve either. Kaylie doesn't hold grudges, whether that's a positive trait or a negative one is up for debate. "Poor Damon looked scared out of his mind downstairs."

Maeve laughs loftily. "I like him. I think I'll keep him so he better get used to it. I'm sorry if I was projecting my regrets with Max onto your relationship with Nicky. And what I said about your friends. I'm sorry for that too. I should probably take Damon's lead and not have an opinion on things that don't involve me."

"I appreciate the apology," Kaylie says, "but even more, I love that you care."

"I do. That's why I want to make sure you _want_ to go out with Nicky and his friends tonight and you aren't just doing it to make him happy. I used to do that with Max all the time. Tag along when he'd go to art gallery openings and things with his hipster artsy friends who thought I was stupid because I thought it was boring. I was _miserable_ every time. Looking back on it, I didn't have to put myself through that. Neither do you."

Maeve cares. She has absolutely shitty ways of showing it, but her intentions are pure. Maeve does the things she does and says the things she says because she's looking out for Kaylie. That's why Kaylie is going to do the same and stick by Maeve no matter what.

"So we're good?" Maeve asks. "I _hate_ when you're mat at me. I break out from all the stress."

"Oh, I've noticed," Kaylie jokes, receiving a playful smack as punishment. "Yes, we're good."

"Great!" Maeve smiles evilly and gives Kaylie another loving little smack, but this time on her ass. "Now, let's go show Celebrity Boy how incredibly dull Boulder is. But first you might want to finish your face. Eyeshadow on only one of your eyes, that's worse than _fetch_."

Kaylie returns to her vanity and finishes getting ready. She grabs a sweater and as they're walking down the stairs Maeve's phone ring. Her mom. She tosses her keys to Kaylie, says they're taking her convertible, and answers the call. Damon is already outside, talking to AJ, who's behind the wheel of his car, engine live and ready to leave.

"Hey," Kaylie says. Right as she walks up to Damon, AJ starts reversing. "Where's AJ headed?"

"He didn't say. He did give me the number combination to your garage so I don't have to bug anyone when I come and go. I hope that's okay?"

"Sure. I'll be sure to lock my door at night," Kaylie tries to joke. It would have been nice if Ronnie sat them down for a family meeting about letting Damon have full access to their home, but her mom isn't exactly known for thinking things through before executing. Again, such is the Cruz way.

"Where's Maeve?"

"On the phone with her mom. Trust me. It'll take a while." Kaylie starts Maeve's convertible and puts the top down. It's a nice, surprisingly warm day. Spring is finally approaching. "Um, I'm sorry about her, by the way. You know, the girl time."

"It's fine. She reminds me a lot of Jody. Opinionated. Forceful." Damon tries to play it cool and climbs into the backseat of the car. Mission accomplished. Damon Young doesn't have a single uncool bone in his body. "Is she always that…_that_?"

"I think it's sort of amplified by the break up," Kaylie explains. Damon nods. He gets it. He's there, just quiet about it. "Next, I should probably apologize because now you know _way_ too much about my personal life, at least, more than you wanted to know."

"You shouldn't apologize," Damon assures her. After a long pause, he asks, "Kaylie, you want to be the one holding Nicky's hand, right?"

She takes a moment, thinking about Barcelona, remembering the sand between her toes as she walked that narrow makeshift beam and the way Nicky couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"More than anything," she replies.

"Then make sure he knows you want to be that person. And if he knows, but you still don't feel loved, then, you know, maybe it's time to decide whether it'd be better to walk away or try harder. Maeve may be, well, _blunt_, but she has a point. Our friends are great. Like stars. You can have dozens of them and that's cool, but there's only one moon."

Just because she's feeling clever, Kaylie can't resist and says, "Mars has two moons."

Damon chuckles. "Humans can't survive on Mars."

"Not that we know of _yet._" Kaylie has her legs stretched out across the front seat, her back against the left car door, so all she has to do is slightly turn her head to look at Damon, who's doing the same, just resting against the right side of the car. "Has anyone ever told you you're way too good with words?"

"Thank you? It's kind of in my job description."

"I liked the way you were talking about Emily," Kaylie confesses. "You really love her."

Kaylie uses the present tense and Damon nods, appreciating her attention to words in return.

"That's another thing, though." Damon sighs listlessly and looks directly into the sun. "You can grip someone's hand as tight as you want, but you can't make them grip yours back."

…

When MJ tells her that Healthy Bar wants to put a picture of her in a red, white and blue leotard on all their products, Payson almost doesn't believe her. Healthy Bar wants Payson Keeler and her marketed image as America's conservative, hardworking sweetheart. Though her parents make a fuss about sacrificing her NCAA Eligibility, Payson doesn't lose sleep over it. The Olympics has always been the dream and she's sure that's where she'll end up.

Payson hasn't heard from Austin lately. They text every day, but every exchange is short, brief and vague. Now he doesn't even show up to practice. The news of his parents visiting Boulder really shook him up. Payson just wishes she knew he was okay.

"Pay, he's okay," Conrad assures her. He still hangs out at the Rock despite clearing out his locker some time ago. He puts in hours as an assistant coach or spotter when needed and sometimes he even lends a hand in the office. Now, he has a new job: informant. "Busy and stressed, but okay. With that sister of his, I'm sure his hair'll be white or fall out by the time he gets back to the grind."

"I know a day off from gymnastics won't kill him, but still, he shouldn't be skipping out," Payson says. "And if he is ditching practices, he should at least tell Sasha. Sasha came up to _me_, asking if I knew where he is. Like I'm supposed to."

"Well, you are his girlfriend." Conrad grins, wiggling his ears. Payson shoves her elbow into his side and Conrad laughs. "Damn, Pay, of all the g-words to be afraid of."

"I'm not _afraid_ of a word."

"Sure."

"What are they like?" Payson asks curiously. "The Tuckers."

"They're great! They remind me a lot of my family, but not. Mrs. Tuck is the sweetest. She'd get along great with my mama and yours. Mr. Tuck, _well_. Here's a tip. Keep the gymnastics talk to a bare minimum or better yet not at all around him. You'll be meeting them soon enough. Ava's been asking about you and she isn't very patient."

"Their son is one of the best gymnasts in the country. Why is gymnastics a sore topic?" Conrad curls both his top lip and bottom lip into his mouth, keeping secrets. Payson nods to say she understands his silence. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see. Thanks, Con."

"WHY ARE YOU TEXTING MY BOYFRIEND?"

"BETTER QUESTION: WHY IS YOUR BOYFRIEND TEXTING ME?"

Payson really doesn't want to believe those two voices belong to the two gymnasts that come to mind. Patting her on the shoulder, Conrad laughs. "You've got your work cut out for you, Cap'n. How does Violet still not know her boyfriend is cheating on her with Scarlett?"

Payson's shoulders sink and this is the one time she regrets being appointed captain of their hot mess elite division. "Conrad, want to do me a favor?"

"If it involves breaking up a good ol' fashion girl fight I don't know any guy who's gonna help you out with that one, Pay."

"I was actually going to say _hide me_."

"Can't do that either." Conrad lays his hands on Payson's shoulders and gives her a squeeze. "This is why you're Cap'n, Cap'n."

Payson squares her shoulders before marching over and demanding the two girls sort their shit out. She goes through this time and time again with Kaylie and Lauren, so much so that it's second nature. Violet and Scarlett might not like Payson, they might hate her, sick with jealousy, but at least they respect her. That's why when Payson tells them to shut up before Sasha hears, Violet and Scarlett promptly walk away in opposite directions.

Seeing her teammates fight reminds her too much of her friend. Payson has been busy with the press since leaving Florida, not as much as the media twister that followed her from Rio, but her career is starting to take off. She hasn't had much free time to spend with friends, not even Faith. Payson still refuses to acknowledge Lauren's existence and from what she hears from Emily, Kaylie is doing the same. Everything is fragmented and disjointed. Worst of all, Payson doesn't just know this, but she actually _feels_ it.

At the end of the day, Conrad tells Payson that she has a visitor out front, one he describes as "the blonde one with the cute dimples." It has to be Lauren. Though she'd rather not, Payson walks outside and sees Lauren parked, standing outside of her car, as if debating whether or not she should go inside.

"Hey, Super Girl!" Lauren says brightly, dimples in full effect. "I listened to the radio interview you did! The guy asking the questions was _so_ smitten. If the rest of the world wasn't already in love with you I'd be willing to bet they are now."

"Lauren, what are you doing here?" Payson asks. Mostly, she's frustrated. Payson thought Lauren changed, even told her she was proud, but this latest stunt revealed Lauren's pattern. She does something horrible and goes into a teary, heartbreaking apology and once she's forgiven, she goes on to plot her next scheme. Payson is sick of it.

"You want to go for a drive?" Lauren asks.

Payson crosses her arms. "So I'd have no way of escaping you? No thanks."

"You don't pre-plan an exit strategy when you're with your friend."

"You don't tell a friend personal details about her boyfriend after you promised your other friend you wouldn't!"

Lauren frowns, but Payson doesn't sympathize. What did she expect?

"If I'm not mistaken, Payson, we were right here when you wanted to tell Kaylie."

"I wanted us to sit her down and tell her gently, not throw it in her face during an argument! It was none of your business in the first place!"

"I know—"

"And you didn't tell Kaylie because you were being a good friend. That I could have understood, but, no, you said it to spite her," Payson says. Everything she says is stated like a fact because it is. Lauren actually looks hurt and it only fuels Payson's fury. "I'm not even the person you should be apologizing to."

A faint conversation can be heard closer to the gym and they both recognize Kim and Becca's voices so they fall silent.

"Hey, Lauren," Kim says. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Mrs. Keeler!" Lauren says cheerily. "I was just wondering if I could borrow Payson for like, an hour. It shouldn't take long. I promise to drive safe and we'll even wear our seatbelts."

"What are you two up to?" Kim asks suspiciously.

"Oh, you know, we just have things to catch up on," Lauren explains, purposefully vague.

What did she do this time, Pay?" Becca asks. "Whatever she did, Kelly would want me to tell you to make her Livestream her groveling again."

Kim's arm darts out and she grabs her youngest by the shoulder, ushering her to their van. Payson allows herself to smile just a little. Maybe they should limit how much time Becca spends around Kelly.

"Home before curfew," Kim reminds the girls, but her eyes say _I hope you work things out_. Although Payson would love to escape this entirely, the sooner they talk things out, the less she'll have to worry about. As if Payson doesn't already have enough going on in her head.

"Since when did Becca turn into a Kelly Parker loyalist?"

"Kelly and Faith are over a lot. They've bonded with Becca and my parents."

There's always been an unacknowledged awkwardness when it comes to the Keelers and the Four. Kim and Mark love the girls, but a distance exists between them. The girls don't come over for games of Scrabble and swapping stories like Faith and Kelly do. A part of Payson likes to think it has something to do with the Former Four and how they aren't friends anymore, like Lauren, Kaylie and Emily are little reminders of the friendship Kim had and lost.

"Get in," Lauren says, once Kim and Becca drive away.

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know, but I don't want to stand out here." Lauren runs her hands down her arms before turning to her car and tugging on the handle. Payson does the same on the other side.

When the car starts, her ears aren't assaulted by an upbeat, chart topper like Payson expects. Instead, she hears the tail end of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, one of Payson's absolute favorites. She suspects Lauren planned it, thought out every second of her plan to win Payson's forgiveness, but then the song ends and the DJ announces that this is the classical station. Chopin and Bach coming up next.

"Since when do you listen to classical music?" Payson is too curious not to ask.

"A friend turned me on to it. It keeps me calm while I'm driving," Lauren explains. Silence again. "What do I need to do to make things better between you and me?" Lauren sounds like she genuinely wants notes. "Do I need to chase you around a forest? These boots aren't exactly made for running…"

"I want to know why," Payson says. "Why'd you choose to tell Kaylie like that?"

"It slipped out. It sounds stupid and I'm sure at least a dozen crappy best friends have used that excuse before, but it's true. I just get so upset sometimes…and maybe a little hurt. I just want someone to feel just as upset and hurt. I know that's messed up, but, Pay, Kaylie told me the only reason we're friends is because of our moms, like our friendship means nothing."

Payson tries not to look at Lauren and focuses on the music, how she can almost _feel_ spring approaching just at the carefully crafted symphony of sounds. When Lauren says things like that and sounds so broken about it, Payson feels her anger slowly evaporate. She doesn't understand how Kaylie can stay upset at Lauren for such extended periods of time. Then again, it's doubtful Lauren has talked to Kaylie since the fallout, let alone apologized.

"It's like it's automatic or something," Lauren confesses, like she's working through her thoughts aloud, not like something she rehearsed. "I did it the other day with someone else. At least now we know it isn't Kaylie. It's me."

"Who was it? The person you snapped at?"

"Maeve Benson."

"Well, then she must have deserved it." Payson surprises herself by how lighthearted that comes out. Lauren laughs, keeping her eyes on the road.

"I _might_ have implied that she's a bulimic bitch. I must say, Pay, your boyfriend gives the best ammunition. What else was I supposed to do? Stand there as Maeve verbally attacked my friend? Stand there as Kaylie accuses me of being a slut and brushed off our friendship like it's nothing? I can't. Why am I going to let someone get away with hurting me?"

"But does it feel better after?" Payson asks. "Someone hurts you so you hurt them. Does that make you feel better about yourself?"

"No."

"Then what's the point?"

The two blondes sit for a long moment. The car slows at a red light.

"It seems simple, but when I'm that angry and that hurt and that tired of people thinking they can just walk all over me…" Lauren takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. Payson almost reaches over to touch her arm, but doesn't. "A part of me wonders why I even bother fighting it. Why can't I just accept that it's apart of me? Bitch is as bitch does."

"Because you just told me that it doesn't feel good," Payson reminds her. "Why waste time doing what makes you feel crappy when you could be doing something that makes you feel awesome and proud of yourself? Like apologizing to Kaylie even if it meant social suicide."

"Payson Keeler!" Lauren gasps dramatically. "Did you just use a Mean Girls coined catchphrase? What is Faith Giancana doing to you?"

"Seriously." Payson laughs. "I'm still pissed at you. You should know I think that whole thing you said about blaming nature is total crap. You can't just shrug off impulsively screwing up."

"I know. We own up to it." Lauren sighs. "So what do I do instead?"

"You flip your hair and walk away."

"Such a Poopy Payson answer," Lauren whines. "But for you, fine. I can try."

Payson shakes her head no. "Don't do it for me, Lo. Do it for you."

This time, Payson does reach over and give Lauren's arm a comforting rub.

"Okay," Lauren agrees, "but I won't apologize to Kaylie. I refuse. I might have told her that her boyfriend f—_slept with_ Kelly Parker, but only because she called me out."

"Impulse control. See, you are capable." Payson smiles. Baby steps. "I don't even know what to do about Kaylie."

"Have you talked to her since you've been back?"

"Nope. We just got over being in a fight. I don't think either of us wants to go back to that… You know that she's going out with Nicky, Faith and Kelly tonight, right? I was supposed to be there, but I have a photo shoot early tomorrow morning and an autograph signing after. My mom didn't want me out late. Then Emily cancelled because she works tonight."

"And I wasn't invited." Lauren seems upset about it for maybe a second, but laughs. "Oh, my God. Can you imagine how awkward that must be?"

"I don't have to imagine. Faith promised me live text commentary."

Lauren's face lights up like she just realized tonight is Christmas Fucking Eve. "So, since we're out, you want to go bug Emily at work? I'm starving."

"_You_ are willing to eat at _the Shack_?"

"This year has been full of surprises," Lauren murmurs. She makes a sharp U-turn, headed for everyone's favorite pizza parlor.

The Pizza Shack is in the midst of a dinner rush so they don't bother Emily like they would if it were empty. A curl-haired boy with a bright, Colgate smile shows them to the back. Lauren seems to know him, probably through school or Emily. He introduces himself as Rigo and Payson is polite enough, but sidetracked when her phone buzzes with a new text from Faith:

_Lovely start to the night! I walked downstairs & see Kaylie, Nicky & Kelly sitting together on the SAME couch! Nix in the middle obvi. Awkward-balls! SAVE ME!_

Lauren giggles.

"Good to know you're amused by my friend's misery," Payson says.

"Well, that's funny too, but not why I'm so amused." Lauren smiles at her from the other side of their booth. "Payson, did you not notice how Rigo was looking at you?"

"What was there to notice…?"

"He was looking at you like he wants to bring you home to meet his mother and you just totally blew him off without realizing!" Lauren leans back against the seat and laughs fully. "That's one of my favorite things about you. Kaylie pretends not to notice when guys drool over her, but you genuinely don't see it, do you?"

"Apparently not."

Payson's phone buzzes again with a wave of texts from Faith.

The first:

_Uh oh. It's happened. KP judging Kaylie on her taste in music. Not unusual. Haw. The way Nicky and Kelly look at each other is basically sex! And Kaylie can -_

Second text:

_totally tell! :( Then Nicky mentioned the iTUNES BABY! Tardface tard tard. _

"iTunes Baby?" Lauren asks, once Payson shows her the screen of her phone.

"Nicky and Kelly share an iTunes account."

"That's such a coupley thing to do." Lauren makes a sour face, clearly turned off by all things coupley thanks to her current complicated relationship status. "Straight-up, Nicky and Kelly were practically married, weren't they?"

"We aren't allowed to judge."

"Fine, back to what I was saying…" Lauren lets her words trail off when she notices Emily heading for their table. She scoots in, leaving enough room for Emily to squeeze in next to her. "Hey, Em! How is our favorite working girl tonight?"

"Exhausted." While Lauren wraps her arms around her neck, Emily smiles at Payson. "Hey, Champ. So I'm assuming everything is okay between you two?"

Payson dramatically sighs. "Yes. Kelly isn't having a meltdown. Nicky and Kaylie are still together apparently. And you know I can't stay mad at Lauren no matter how much I want to and how much she deserves it."

"That's what it means to be friends." Lauren winks. "Em, has Rigo asked you about Pay yet?"

Payson narrows her eyes, not liking the mischievous glint in Lauren's eyes. "Lo…"

"No, not yet?" Emily says carefully. "Rigo doesn't know anything about gymnastics. Why would he ask about Payson?"

"Love at first sight," Lauren sings.

"Lo, shut up!" Payson shouts. "I have Austin, remember?"

"Speaking of, he called in for pick-up not too long ago," Emily thinks to mention. Instead of staring at the blank screen of her phone, Payson's ears perk. "We talked for less than a minute, but he asked me how you're doing after putting an order in."

Lauren's enthusiasm fades into concern. "Trouble in paradise?"

"He's been skipping practice, trying to deal with family stuff." Payson sits up and looks around the crowded pizza parlor. When her phone buzzes, Lauren scoops it up before Payson can.

"We're riding a shuttle to the concert!" Lauren reads in her best, overly enthused imitation of Faith. "A scruffy hipster is flirting with Kel! She's sooo bad at normal human stuff! Pace, it's like watching an ant stuck to a piece of tape!"

"Faith?" Emily guesses.

"She's live-texting her group outing with Kelly Parker and Kaylicky," Lauren explains, sliding the phone back to Payson. When she sees Emily's guilty little frown, Lauren rolls her eyes. "Em, don't feel bad. You're working. Payson has a life and a mom who cares. I wasn't invited. I almost wish I were there to see it crash and burn. We should tell Faith to text us pics…"

When Lauren stands a little, reaching for Payson's phone, Emily holds her back and Payson moves her phone out of reach.

"We should be there," Emily insists.

"If she needed backup I'm sure she could have gone crying to BFF Benson," Lauren reasons. She flips open the menu. "I know it isn't on the menu, but can someone make us salads?"

"I'll see what I can do. And because I love you I'll make sure Carter doesn't go anywhere near your food," Emily promises. Lauren tightens her arm around Emily's neck as Payson's phone buzzes in her palm.

Another text:

_Fuck! I think Kaylie & Nicky are fighting! Kel & I are too far to be sure. Side note: Kel gave her # to scruffy hipster. :/ She's hotter than him. All I'm sayin_

"Trouble in paradise," Payson confirms, passing her phone across the table.

"What a surprise," Lauren says sarcastically. Once Emily manages to pry Lauren off her, she takes their order to the kitchen and gets back to work. "Pay, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Payson says distractedly, still watching for Austin.

"You know how Mr. Famous came to train here once camp ended, well, what if he didn't and stayed in Boston? Did you ever consider long distance?"

"No," Payson answers. "At the end of last summer, we acknowledged that we had something, but we never rushed into it. I'm glad we didn't, especially now, seeing what happened with Emily and Kaylie trying to bring her relationship to Colorado. I'm glad he moved here and we got to know each other better, here, before taking that next step."

"And what if he went back to Boston now? Would you do the long distance thing?"

"Maybe," Payson says. "Depending on the circumstances. I never thought about it. Why?"

Before Lauren can answer (not that she looks like she really wants to answer), Payson's phone buzzes again. Faith is lucky the Keelers' family phone plan includes unlimited texts.

It says:

_OMG. OMG! Kel & Kaylie are "talking" ALONE! Nicky pissed Kaylie off & Kel VOLUNTEERED to go after her! Pace, my brain is exploding! _

"Juicy," Lauren comments, but it's half-hearted.

Payson pushes her phone to the side and gives Lauren her full attention because it really feels like she needs it right now. Lauren fills her in on her developing relationship with Razor and how sweet he is and how good he is to her. Lauren leaves her fears out on the table.

When Rigo bring their drinks, he's so nervous. He sets down a diet coke (that's Lauren's) in front of Payson, he accidentally knocks it over and it splashes onto Payson's Rock hoodie. She quickly stands as the soda rushes all over the table. Rigo starts apologizing just as Lauren starts yelling at him and Payson tells them both to calm down. It's just a little spilt cola.

Payson runs to the bathroom to try and wash out the dark spots before they stain. She slides her hoodie off once she's in the women's bathroom and starts to run the faucet when her phone buzzes in her jeans pocket.

Another text from Faith:

_Kelly is sad. Won't tell me what happened. :((( Kaylie is making out with Nicky just to rub it! Monster PDA! NOT COOL. I can't even right now!_

With this latest text, Payson is almost glad she didn't join them on their little date night. She wouldn't know what to do, straddling the line drawn between her best friends. Kaylie and Kelly will forever be on opposite sides of the same scale. Whenever one rises, the other falls.

It startles Payson when the door violently swings open. She freezes, holding her phone in one hand, the faucet running and her stained sweater forgotten on the bathroom counter. No one walks in, just holds the door open enough for Payson to hear the busy restaurant noises.

"What do you think you're doing? Following me into the women's restroom? Jesus Christ, Austin! You're worse than mom and dad!"

When she walks in, Payson can't help, but stare. She's around Emily's height, a little curvy, at least compared to the gymnasts Payson is surrounded by on a daily basis. Her clothes aren't too form fitting, but aren't baggy either, a cardigan over a tee, dark jeans and boots. A dozen bracelets rattle on her one arm as she braces the edge of the counter. She takes a shaky breath, letting her dark brown hair hide her face.

"Don't stare at me." She's blunt, and apparently notices Payson watching her.

When she realizes what she's doing, Payson panics. "I—I—"

"Do you hear this crap?" The girl tilts her head up and in the silence they listen to the music playing overhead. Energetic, fast-pace pop music. Payson thinks she might have heard the song before, but isn't sure. Kaylie would probably know. "Synthesized, upbeat pre-game crap. To think I used to like Adrianna Tate-Duncan. I actually used to listen to her music, but now? Nothing sucks more than wasted talent."

She almost sounds like she might cry, but her eyes are dry. The girl twists the sink handle just a little and moves her hand beneath the faucet, letting the trickle of water trace the lines in her hand. She laughs and glances at Payson, looking almost apologetic, and yet not at all.

"I didn't meant to talk your ear off just then," she says. "I just needed to say something to someone who isn't my brother or my parents for the first time in _days_." She looks from Payson back down to her hand, deliberately avoiding the mirror as she does so. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have a cigarette on you, would you?"

"No," Payson replies. "I don't smoke."

"Good. Me neither. I've heard they kill." She shuts off the water and goes to dry her hands. "You're Payson Keeler. I know. I've Googled you. You have quite the fanbase. By your staring I'm assuming you can guess who I am."

"Austin's sister," Payson says. "Ava?"

Ava smirks and the genetic link to her brother becomes so much more apparent. "I can already tell you're smarter than the last few _dozen_ my brother let hang all over him. This should be interest…"

Indeed, Ava Tucker. Payson thinks so too.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Note:<strong> Sporadic update! We want you to know that we still love our Denim 'Verse and haven't forgotten about it! Wow, the fandom is dead! (Aside from that random person trying to continue LCTD's _The Difference Between _without permission! What _is_ that? Besides uncool.) Is anyone still around regularly? (We clearly aren't.) Thoughts on the chapter?

**Review.**

#WeFaB #LLDFOREVER


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